


Heroes

by Vlad_the_Impala



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mental Illnesses, Multiverse, Self Harm, anger issues, no porn much feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 161,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vlad_the_Impala/pseuds/Vlad_the_Impala
Summary: 'Now, I would like to explain some things about our company and the services we provide, as I am fully aware that we aren’t widely known and, moreover, we would like it to remain like this for the time being.'The Multiverse gave us loads of AUs, but what if all of them came to life simultaneously? And what if someone took advantage of them for fun?..





	1. Prologue. The Group

_Beep beep beep beep beep._

The sound. It was getting on his nerves and pounding in his head, filling the world around him and distorting it. Hojoon verged for a split second in between waking and sleep, but refused to let go. The landscape cleared again, and he looked around. He had already realized he was dreaming, and that the fluid city he was trying to get out of was not for real. It only became more interesting that way. He had wanted to try lucid dreaming for a while, but never had time to properly prepare, and then he forgot.

_Beep beep beep beep beep._

The alarm was merciless, as usual, but something was off about it. Hojoon stopped in the middle of a slimy road, and it gave immediately, but he let himself slowly drown, looking around cautiously. The horizon started turning into blur, the sleep threatening to escape. What was wrong?

_Beep beep beep._

The alarm. He remembered his own alarm and the others’ alarms as well. They all have long stopped waking up to standard sounds like this.

‘What the fuck…’ Hojoon mouthed, - and the fluid city toppled and poured down, smothering him. 

* * *

 

Byungjoo sat up sharply upon sudden realization. He was almost sure he _actually_ saw it, but he couldn’t tell. The sleep was long gone, but his eyes were sore and his vision blurry, and the white light didn’t help, just hurt. He felt around for his glasses, but found nothing even remotely familiar.

It didn’t take him long to understand he wasn’t in his bed. He rubbed his eyes fiercely and squinted, looking around, all pricked up, like a caged animal, and his mouth, open in tension, opened even wider. The room he was in was entirely white and empty. It wasn’t cold or hot, but he shivered under his warm pyjama as he realized another thing. There was no door. He was surrounded by solid walls.

Byungjoo jumped to his feet, ready to fight. He wasn’t sure whom he was to fight here, but the terror was so overwhelming it made him mad. The white walls glared at him mercilessly.

‘Hey you!’ he called, and his own voice sounded thin and pathetic.

There was a slight flicker to his right and he turned, straightening, trying to look composed. A figure walked in right through the wall. Byungjoo’s knees gave, and he sank to the floor, his entire body suddenly soft and limp. The figure – it was a woman in a black formal suit – smiled slightly, looking somewhere above his head, and spoke. 

* * *

 

 

‘ _Good morning, sir. My name is Lee Yujin, and I’m a representative of the Q Group recreation services in Seoul. It’s a pleasure to see you._ ’

She paused, a frozen smile on her face. She resembled a doll in her motionless silence, not even did her chest move, clad in expensive black fabric. Yooncheol watched her, unmoving in his spot, squinting slightly. His thumbs were circling each other faster with each second. _She doesn’t even look alive,_ he thought to himself.

‘It’s a pleasure to me, too, I guess,’ he replied aloud, politely. ‘Would you-’

She spoke again, right over him.

‘ _I am here to inform you that you have been presented a recreational program by our company. The giver provided the full payment, and you-’_

‘Miss, excuse me, would you mind-’

_‘-for free. The giver preferred to remain anonymous. Now, I would like to explain some things about our company and the services we provide, as I am fully aware that we aren’t widely known and, moreover, we would like it to remain like this for the time being.’_

Yooncheol frowned as he rose. In a few quick light steps he approached the lady. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he put his hand on her upper arm…

Or he was about to. His hand slid easily through the lady’s body, and she rippled slightly, blinking in and out. He drew his hand back, and looked her in the face as she reappeared, losing her transparency, becoming deceptively material. The woman kept staring right through him as she opened her mouth, again, just like she did a few seconds before, and continued.

* * *

 

‘ _I’m sure you are familiar with the multiverse hypothesis.’_

Jiho hemmed, aggressively handling the wall behind the woman’s back.

‘Yeah, we sure are. But, you know, you walked through the wall around here somewhere. I wanna know how you did that.’

‘ _If you are not: essentially, it means that every one of our choices creates a kind of a split, and an alternate universe, in which our life goes on in a completely different way. In other words, the multiverse implies that literally everything is possible. The Q Group’s motto is exactly this. Somewhere in space and time every person that exists or has existed is someone entirely different.’_

Jiho banged his fist on the wall and turned to the woman sharply. She was still standing with her back turned to him, emotionless and unmoving.

‘Oh yes, everything is possible, you say.’ He strutted around her, stopping in front of her face and squinting at her, challenging. ‘Then, it must be possible to tell me what _my_ place in this goddamn scheme is, huh?!’

The woman stared through him, providing no reaction, as she opened her mouth again.

* * *

 

‘ _The rules are fairly simple. The programme is divided into rounds, or levels. With each round, the group is placed into a randomly chosen universe. Each member plays his own part in the universe, and doesn’t remember his personality in ours – the main universe, as I will call it further, albeit not quite correctly.’_

Sangdo rubbed his chin, never stopping pacing up and down the room. His fingers were trembling, and his teeth clanked slightly, as if he was cold. He sucked on his bitten lip, tasting the blood.

‘ _Only one member has his memory and personality unchanged – the so-called ‘hero of the day’. In each round, the hero is different, of course. In the conditions of the universe, he has to figure out his role, in order not to arouse any suspicions, and his aim is to find the other members. This task is not as difficult as it seems, as the choice of the characters is not random: the character of the hero meets each one of them during the day. You have to be careful, however, as the encounters might be very brief and easily interrupted. The only way to awaken the memories of a member is to speak to him. This is called ‘fetching’.’_

Sangdo stopped in his tracks, and turned to the woman, his face stern.

‘And then what? What happens when I, for example, find everyone? What do you think I’m supposed to do?’

‘ _Once all of the members are fetched, the rule for passing to the next round is to fall asleep. The other possible variations are fainting and dying. For all the members to proceed together, as one member sleeps, faints or dies, all the others must follow in not more than ten minutes, otherwise the team might split between universes. To prevent this from happening, the hero of the day has a strong soporific substance on him, i. e. sleeping aid.’_

* * *

 Sanggyun let out a short laugh, his face a look of disbelief.

‘Really? Nine people have to fall asleep all at once? Are you outta your mind?!’

She remained silent, staring through him.

‘Hey, miss, answer me!’

He clicked his fingers before the woman’s face, but she didn’t even blink. Sanggyun waved his hand in front of her eyes, and, as it didn’t help, he grabbed her shoulders – and his hands clapped against each other as the projection went semi-transparent and blinked in and out, rippling slightly around his wrists.

Sanggyun jerked his hands back, and the woman slowly materialized again. He stared at his hands, but they looked perfectly fine. Sanggyun took a step back, staring at the woman, a weird smile on his face. He let out a few half-sobs – and burst out laughing, loudly and hysterically. He threw his head back, eyes shut tight to prevent the tears from escaping.

* * *

 

‘ _The game is not limited in time, as long as all the members stay conscious,’_ – the woman continued. ‘ _As you see, the rules are fairly simple. About your health after all of the rounds are passed, you shouldn’t worry. In various universes you, as your characters, might have physical or mental defects or illnesses, but those stay with the character, and change upon changing the universe.’_

Sangwon walked back and forth through the woman again, making her pause, to get his head around what he had just heard. _This can’t be real,_ he kept telling himself, but he couldn’t wake up from this dream – and he knew he wasn’t asleep. He walked out of the projection, letting the woman materialize again, and turned to face her, glaring at her silently, waiting.

_‘I have to mention that it is our first time letting this many people into the game. We have had completely satisfying experience with groups up to 5 people, but, according to the calculations, the current version of our system can work with up to 10, so I assure you that you are completely safe.’_

Sangwon scoffed and turned away. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

* * *

 

‘Wait, there must be some mistake here. I mean – we don’t want this. We didn’t sign up. Our managers never informed us about anything like this, and it’s their duty. Why weren’t we told about this before?’

The woman remained silent, the empty stare of her black eyes piercing right through Sehyuk. He shivered and rubbed his shoulders with his hands, arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. It was probably the first time in his life he actually _felt_ naked – cold and vulnerable, standing in the middle of a white, windowless, doorless room in his only underwear in front of a woman who wasn’t even there. He had tried to find at least something that was projecting her, but there was nothing on the floor, the ceiling or the walls.

The woman opened her mouth again, inclining her head to the side a little.

_‘I also have to inform you that, unfortunately, you cannot refuse the gift now. The game has been discussed with your directors, and agreed upon, and the full payment has been made. But you needn’t worry. Our team works hard to provide you with unforgettable experience!’_

* * *

Hansol slapped his hips helplessly. His eyes filled with tears he had long been holding back, and he only managed to give out a small ‘oh’, and covered his face with his hands. He felt so small and cold, alone in the white room without doors, with no actual idea what was to come.

‘Oh…’ – and a string of tiny, pained sobs.

Where was anyone? He wasn’t sure he would even be able to adjust, let alone finding anyone else. Fear clenched in his abdomen and squeezed his throat, barely letting him breathe.

‘ _Now, I should be gone,’_ the woman’s smiling voice informed. Hansol squeezed his eyes shut . ‘ _As soon as I leave, the door will appear for you to enter the first round. No matter if you are the hero of the day or playing a part, I wish you good luck. Have fun and enjoy yourself. We are doing our best for you.’_

And then, there was silence. Hansol listened intently to that silence, biting back his lips, swallowing sobs. There was no sound any more, except for his own ragged breathing. He raised his face and sniffed hard, trying belatedly to regain composure. The projection was gone.

* * *

 

Hojoon hemmed and glared at the wall the woman had just walked through. In a second, something gave a tiny sound, and a dark outline of a door appeared – a white door, smooth like the wall it was in.

‘Doing your best, you say,’ Hojoon muttered, throwing his hair back. ‘Okay, let see what you can do.’

He took a few wide steps up to the wall and pushed the door forward with his hand. It gave, letting in the sounds of the round: the tide of voices, getting louder and then fading again. Hojoon turned his head, about to look back, but froze in the middle of the motion and squinted at the door he was holding half-open.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head sharply. With that, he threw the door open and took a bold step in.


	2. Jiho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided I need to attach the Heroes' busts I drew to the chapter descriptions, so here we go. Have the author's take on the character :)  
> http://tom-failure.tumblr.com/post/163416700618/whats-wrong-i-decided-to-make-a-series-of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our mother made us into swimmers -  
> She threw her babes into the river.
> 
> Jason Webley – Ways to Love

‘Hah!’

Jiho burst out of the door – and the wall appeared out of nowhere, too close in front of him. He stumbled over his own feet – ‘Woah!’ – in an attempt to stop, but only took another wide step, and fell forward right onto the wall. The unfamiliar surprised faces slipped in front of him, and he only managed to give out something pitched, most resembling a ‘shit fuck ohhh fuck bitch-’ before he hit the cold and slippery white tile, and the fall was over.

‘Awh fu-‘

The landing was far from soft. The pain stung through his hand. Jiho winced and stepped back, rubbing his wrist.

‘Jiho, you alright?’ a voice sounded over his ear. It seemed worried, and Jiho already opened his mouth to assure the boy he was fine, but the same voice interrupted, mockingly: ‘Or did a toilet monster bite your ass?’

A wave of laughter crashed over Jiho. He raised his head, and his nostrils flared. The time seemingly slowed down. He looked around, feeling his ears burn. There were laughing faces all around, distorted faces of young men, - students, - and all of them seemed terrifyingly ugly. Jiho felt the rage bubble in his throat. He pressed up his lips not to let it out, but his fists clenched involuntarily. God knows what could have happened, but someone glanced at his watch and gave a loud ‘ooh’.

‘Guys, we gotta hurry, the lesson has already started!’

The guys began fidgeting and shuffling, throwing backpacks on their backs. Jiho blinked a couple times and shook his head to regain composure.

‘Jiho, hurry up!’ a voice called as the last boy ran out of the toilet. Jiho followed him with his stare, then frowned and looked around. The toilet was empty. The boys were gone.

His first urge was to grab his backpack and run. He rushed towards the blue bag, thrown haphazardly by the wall. _I’m late for a lesson, I have to hurry!_ But he stopped midway and shook himself. He didn’t even know where to run. He didn’t know what kind of a lesson it was, with all those weird boys. And, moreover, this was not at all the Jiho that he knew.

The Jiho that he knew had bullshitted through middle school, and continued bullshitting everything through and through, doing only what he liked, and what, he thought, was necessary of him to become rich and famous. Jiho smiled slightly and almost sadly at his old dreams of fame. _Oh, if you only knew back then, Shin Jiho…_

Now, just like back then, he had a task, a big goal: to find his guys. Being the first hero of the day was sure interesting, and Jiho wasn’t about to blow it. Finding the others around the university or college, he figured, wasn’t going to be all that hard. He had a lesson ahead, and he didn’t want to waste it.  _Now, all I need to keep in mind is – don’t get caught._

Not getting caught didn’t just mean staying sneaky as a truant, though. The lady had said he mustn’t raise any suspicions. That meant - playing along, and Jiho was ready to accept the challenge. The answers to his life in this universe must have been in that nice blue backpack. Jiho squinted at it, and in a moment he was crouching over it, opening the zipper.

The bag was full of things bearing little relation to any kind of lessons. Jiho rummaged through a pile of junk, finding a phone charger, a little speaker, a couple of comic book volumes, and a ton of sweets. He took a chocolate bar – _to recharge_ – and finally fished out a notebook.

 _‘Shin Jiho’, it_ said on the cover, in his own handwriting. And on the next line: ‘ _Acting and oratory’, ‘year 2’._

 _Okay,_ he thought, shoving the notebook back in, _year 2, you say. Acting and oratory. Fine with me._ Now it seemed much easier to figure out his schedule and a plan.

He was just about to step out of the door when he heard two voices approaching.

‘Yes, I’m actually doing well, Mr. Principal,’ a young, smiling voice said, reflecting from the walls in a weird reverb.

Jiho shuffled back, and crouched down behind the wall, leaving the door precautiously cracked open. The voice sounded vaguely familiar.

‘Well, huh,’ a deeper voice replied, doubtfully. ‘What about that freshman, Seo Sangwon? There’ve been only complaints about him, from all teachers – except for you. How does he behave? I’m concerned about him, Sehyuk.’

Jiho covered his mouth with his hand to tame his breathing, getting wild. He gathered all his courage and peeked out of the door, just one eye – and he shuffled quickly back, by some miracle not making a noise. The heavy bag froze hanging barely a centimetre over the floor. Two men had stopped in front of the door, one of them had his wide back turned to Jiho, and the other one, looking up at his partner with a slight smile, was _the_ Sehyuk. Jiho’s heart pounded in his throat. Sehyuk looked weird, dressed in old, slightly oversized clothes, not resembling his usual stylish garments in the slightest.

‘Seo Sangwon is a difficult guy, that’s for sure,’ he spoke, calmly and confidently. ‘But he has huge potential. On my lessons he works really hard and his behaviour is fine. He’s really good at languages, his English is much better than most of the students’ in his group. I would have asked to move him to a group with a higher level, but I would really like to work with him myself.’

‘I would _insist_ on your working with him yourself, Sehyuk,’ the principal said, and something stern slipped in his otherwise soft voice. ‘No other teacher can really manage him. You should talk to him, you should really teach him more than just English. You must teach him to control himself, otherwise he’ll drop out before even finishing the first year.’

There was a little sigh, probably Sehyuk’s.

‘I understand, Mr. Principal. I’m trying my best to reason with him. But he has a terrible background, and I hope you can be more condescending to him.’

The principal gave a short laugh.

‘Sehyuk, I _don’t think_ you understand. He has to adapt to society. He won’t be able to be part of it if he doesn’t try. We're not a private institution, and our students have different backgrounds, but they all try their best to become functioning adults. Otherwise, they drop out.

There was a loud breath.

‘And besides, he’s not Kim Hansol,’ the principal remarked, skeptically, lowering his voice. ‘There is no one to fix his staying here for him. However sad and unfair this is to admit, he must understand this. Even Hansol is showing progress this year. But Sangwon is much more problematic, and that’s why his probation is much, much shorter. He doesn’t have a year. I can hardly spare him even the semester he has! You sure have to understand _me,_ Sehyuk, the teachers’ well-being depends on me. Sangwon sure has a grip, but he has to apply that grip in the right way. Do you understand?’

‘I do, Mr. Principal,’ Sehyuk’s fallen voice replied. ‘Can I ask about one more thing, while we’re at it?’

‘Please do.’

‘You mentioned that there was a possibility to move _me_ to teach a stronger group…’

‘This is out of question for now,’ the principal interrupted. ‘When this will be an option for you, I will let you know at once. But not yet.’

‘Ah… that’s fine. I’m sorry, Mr. Principal.’

Sehyuk’s voice was even quieter now. Jiho frowned behind the wall. This didn’t sound like Sehyuk at all.

‘Now, I have to go,’ the principal dropped, and some weird satisfaction sounded in his voice. ‘I’m counting on you, Sehyuk.’

‘Yes, Mr. Principal.’

The heavy footsteps headed off, until they were lost after the sound of a door closing, and Sehyuk’s lighter footfall headed off, too. Jiho peeked out of the toilet door.

‘Sehyuk!’

Sehyuk turned his head slightly to the direction of the shouting whisper, then sighed and quickened his steps.

‘Sehyukie!’ Jiho shuffled out of the toilet, dragging the backpack with him. ‘Sehyukie, wait!’

But Sehyuk completely ignored his whisper, disappearing around the corner. Jiho hurried to interfere, but as he turned the corner, Sehyuk opened the door of some classroom and was gone.

Jiho slapped his thighs – and looked around, suddenly alert. He had dropped his care, and he felt exposed. There was no one to be seen, but Jiho covered his mouth with his hand and hurried back. There, he had noticed a door, behind which, through the glass, he saw the stairs. He slipped out onto the staircase and examined the door from the other side.

A big light-green number 3 was on the left wall, attracting the attention. It must have been the floor number. Beside the glass door was a small clean sign saying ‘Acting and Oratory faculty’. Jiho nodded to himself, satisfied, and slipped back in. Now, he only had to find the schedule, to know where he’s supposed to go next.

Clean signs on the doors, probably designed by some older students themselves, marked the room numbers and purposes. Jiho tiptoed down the corridor towards a big bulletin board. Just as he had hoped, the schedule was there, a nice laminated printout, for all years of the faculty of Acting and Oratory. He fished out his phone, took a picture of the timetable and shoved it back into his pocket. He had time to look around and find all the classrooms he needed.

* * *

As the lesson was nearing its end, Jiho had briefly explored all five floors of the institution: the brightly lit first floor, where from behind the thick doors various sounds were barely heard – Music and Composition; the second floor, with fewer rooms than the others, but apparently larger – Choreography; the third floor of Acting and Oratory, offering the further end of its corridor to a tiny philological sub-faculty; the fourth floor, darkened and smelling of oil paints: Arts; and the messy, white and spacey fifth floor, where the renovations were at full swing, but seemed like they were never to end: Graphic Design. From some captions and signatures he had figured he was in a university of arts in a non-existent town. The university didn’t seem very big or particularly famous, but it wasn’t shabby. The level was difficult to guess. Jiho decided it safe to assume it was slightly above average.

A few times he had had to hide in the toilets from passing teachers, but they were rare, and Jiho wasn’t much obstructed in his research. Just before the end of the line he returned to the third floor and took base in the same toilet, on the window sill, waiting for the break to start. He didn’t have to wait long. In a few minutes the corridors of the university filled with chatter, and he slipped off his seat, grabbed his backpack and headed out.

The art university students looked bright and diverse. Jiho felt like he was a part of a big aviary, surrounded with birds of all sorts and sizes. Boys and girls walked and ran by, chattering, laughing and hurrying, some of them chewing things, and some of them silent and deep in thought. Some said hello, and Jiho made sure he replied friendlily. One guy invited him to come have a bite, but Jiho gestured in refusal, and he just nodded understandingly. No one else seemed willing to approach him – thankfully, for now.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he grabbed it almost instinctively. The caller’s name appeared on the screen, and Jiho spared it a glance before putting his thumb habitually to the icon on the left side of the screen. _Wait._ He shook his head and looked at the screen again, to make sure he wasn’t mistaken.

‘Kim Sanggyun’, the screen read.

Jiho’s heart skipped a beat – and then overfilled him with pounding. _I can fetch him! I will talk to him and fetch him!_ Almost dropping the phone out of his suddenly trembling fingers, he picked up.

‘H-hello?’

‘He-ey!’ the familiar lively voice called, a little too loudly. Jiho winced momentarily.

‘Goodness, Sanggyunie, be quiet! I’ve already been through a lot today, spare my ears. This game started so weirdly, when I went through the door, you know where I found myself?’

‘Um… what door?’ Sanggyun sounded genuinely confused. Jiho frowned.

‘What do you mean what door? Do you remember the morning, at all?’

There was a couple moments’ silence.

‘Um, I’ve just woken up, you know,’ Sanggyun informed, sounding even more puzzled. ‘And called you immediately. What else should I remember? What game? Did something important happen? Did they show on the morning news?..’

He said something else, but Jiho didn’t listen, taking his phone away from his ear and glaring at it.

_Why the fuck isn’t this working?_

‘Jiii-hooo!’ the voice called from the speaker. Jiho huffed and brought the phone back to his ear.

‘You’re weird, are you alright?’

‘Yeah-yeah, I am,’ Jiho reassured, trying his best to put on a smile. ‘I’m sort of… confused.’

‘Confused?!’ Sanggyun laughed into the speaker. ‘About what? Geez, you’re just dumb.’

Jiho rolled his eyes.

‘Yeah, sure. Did you call to remind me?’

Sanggyun giggled.

‘No-ow this is my Jiho. What’s up? I thought I’d check on how you’re surviving there without me. I bet your lead role is going to be a disaster. Hope you just keep it so until I can attend lessons again.’

‘Just exactly why are you absent, in the first place?’ Jiho muttered, looking around, planning his way towards the classroom not to be taken by surprise again.

‘Hey, are you serious there?!’

‘Completely,’ Jiho dropped, strutting towards the window and taking an observation position on the sill. Sanggyun huffed into the speaker.

‘You gotta be kidding me,’ his voice sounded almost offended. ‘I mean, it was you who took me to the doctor with the broken leg. Not to mention you had a good laugh at me beforehand, but what of a friend would I be if I made it a big deal?’

‘Oh,’ Jiho gave a short laugh. ‘Come on, I’m fucking with you.’

Sanggyun scoffed loudly.

‘You’re plain weird today. How was the rehearsal? Did you tell them what happened to me? I bet Changhae has already forgotten that I called them yesterday evening.’

‘I… I skipped it,’ Jiho confessed, without much regret. ‘Had things to figure out. I mean, it really _was_ urgent. It won’t repeat.’

He wondered at how easily long forgotten words slipped from his tongue. He used to always say that. _It won’t repeat._ Sanggyun gave another loud noise.

‘Wha-at?! You skipped the rehearsal? Young man, where did you put Shin Jiho? I want him back.’

‘Listen, Sanggyunie, I can’t really explain now. I mean, it would be cool if I could tell you in person, like, you know…’

‘Well, you could come over after the lessons,’ Sanggyun suggested. ‘It must be something really important anyway, to make you skip the rehearsal.’

The students around Jiho started flowing quickly into the open doors of the classrooms.

‘Yeah, it sure is,’ he dropped, slipping from the window sill. ‘Listen, I have to run. The lecture is about to start. I’ll see you later.’

Sanggyun hemmed.

‘Okay, fine. I’m gonna be waiting. You seriously concern me.’

‘Yeah. Bye.’

Jiho was already walking into the classroom, shoving his phone into his pocket. The teacher wasn’t in sight yet. He looked around for his seat, and took the first free one in the back. No one came to sit by, but now it was for the better. He needed time to think over.

* * *

The History of Theatre lecture was interesting, as Jiho gathered from brief moments of attentiveness. He kept looking at the time. There were no familiar faces around the classroom, or familiar backs, for that matter, and he couldn’t wait for the lecture to end. His best plan for now was to find Sehyuk among the teachers and get him to help. This sounded reasonable, and it was hard for Jiho to sit till the end.

The teacher’s lively voice was quite suddenly interrupted with a loud knock on the door. Jiho raised his head, startled. The teacher turned her head to the door and frowned reproachfully before coming and opening it. As she pulled the knob and pushed, her expression changed suddenly, her face lighting up with a wide smile.

‘Oh, Hojoonie!’

Jiho’s eyes opened wide. He could barely hear what the voice replied from behind the door. He tensed up and leaned over the desk. The next moment, the teacher nodded and stepped away, letting in a smartly-dressed kid, with his head raised slightly, and his smile polite under his careful eyes. Hojoon.

‘Hello,’ he greeted. ‘I have an announcement to make here, if you don’t mind.’

A slight murmur ran along the class, as the students smiled or shrugged. They seemed to like Hojoon, he nodded to some, smiling a bit. Jiho waved his hand slightly, keeping his eye out for the teacher, and Hojoon glanced to him. Jiho smiled widely, and opened his mouth, but Hojoon gestured to him to keep it down. He went on with the announcement, keeping shooting Jiho quick squints. Jiho caught himself biting his lips in anxious excitement.

Hojoon would sound like a teacher himself, but his addressing was easier, friendlier. He seemed to be everyone’s friend, and at the same time everyone respected him. Even the teacher looked at him with some kind of awe, as if she was his fan. Jiho caught himself almost admiring Hojoon. He stood out. He was a star even here, and Jiho wondered if, in this universe, _he himself_ was as good. He cursed himself for this thought, but it kept nagging at the back of his head. He couldn’t really listen to Hojoon, he didn’t register the words. His only desire was to talk to him as soon as possible. He suddenly realized he really wanted to make sure the whole thing was for real. It was so bizarre he’d almost accepted it as normal without further questions. His memories couldn’t be fake…

Or could they?

Hojoon smiled one last time and bid the teacher goodbye before bowing slightly to the class. The most impatient ones jumped off their seats at once, not even waiting for anything the teacher had to say. But she – probably soothed by Hojoon’s healing presence, - didn’t seem to care. Jiho tried to maintain composure, but bubbling excitement was stronger than him. He grabbed his bag and rushed towards the door.

‘Hojoonie!’

Hojoon was already walking out. His walk was lively, but not too fast. Jiho slipped after him into the corridor, reached his arm out – and the shoulder clad in dark green fit right under his fingers.

‘Hojoonie, wait!’

Hojoon turned to him, eyebrows raised at being stopped so unexpectedly and violently. Jiho’s face alit with the widest, most sincere smile.

‘Man, finally!’

Hojoon changed in the face, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

‘Jiho?!’

Jiho nodded enthusiastically. Hojoon grabbed him by the elbows, dragging him aside, to the window.

‘Goodness gracious, what do I remember? Was this all for real? Is this all a game?!’

Hojoon’s face was a look of sheer disbelief, and Jiho realized now it was his job to calm him down. He freed his arms from Hojoon’s grabby fingers, - they had started hurting him, - and nodded slowly.

‘Hush now. Calm down. I’m not sure myself as of now. What do you remember?’

‘I remember…’ Hojoon leaned his back onto the window, trying to catch his breath. ‘I remember the white room. I remember a woman, who walked through walls. And the game…’

‘Say no more,’ Jiho straightened, nodding knowingly. Now he was certain that he wasn’t going insane, and that it wasn’t a dream. Hojoon glanced to him, pushing his back off the glass.

‘So you remember it, too?’

‘I guess I’m the hero of the day this time.’

Hojoon raised his eyebrows and looked away, thoughtful for a moment. Jiho waited patiently, watching him. Now, as he wasn’t alone any more, he felt almost adventurous. He was a bit scared to admit now, but he was even a little glad they got into the game – even if they hadn’t wanted it in the first place.

Hojoon took a deep breath and stood straight, looking to Jiho.

‘Fine. Okay. I see it now. I’m pretty glad you found me first, you know.’

His accent had been softer back in the classroom, but now, as he was worried, it slipped again. Hojoon cleared his throat.

‘You seem like quite a star here,’ Jiho remarked with a slight smile.

‘More like, the head of the council,’ Hojoon smiled. ‘Wow, I talk a lot here! They all love me, you know, and ask for my opinion. Diplomacy!’ He put his hands on his hips, raising his chin with a self-confident smirk. ‘I can actually get you free from all the lessons today, and help you calmly fetch the guys.’

Jiho nodded, smiling.

‘Yeah, I’d love to! I saw Sehyuk briefly already, by the way.’ Noticing the corners of Hojoon’s lips turn up, he hurried to specify: ‘Didn’t fetch him, though. Didn’t get a chance. Listen, about fetching.’

‘Huh?’

‘You know, on the break, I got a call. From Sanggyunie. And we talked. But you know what? I couldn’t fetch him! Like, that lady said that I needed to talk to the guys to make them remember, but now it doesn’t work.’

Hojoon bit his lower lip thoughtfully.

‘Let see…’

‘How did it work for you? What did you feel?’

‘Well, I saw your face and heard your voice…’ Hojoon nodded to himself. ‘I guess by talking to us, she meant personally. Face to face. We probably need to maintain eye contact or see the face. Well, that’s a guess.’

Jiho huffed.

‘Oh damn it. I already fucked up. I made him suspicious. I promised to let him in on everything after the lessons.’

‘Why after the lessons? Where is he?’

‘He’s at home with a broken leg.’

Hojoon exhaled loudly.

‘O-oh, goddammit. He broke it recently, didn’t he.’ He wasn’t even asking. Jiho nodded.

‘Exactly. I don’t think he’ll be able to walk on his own any time soon.’

Hojoon tapped the window sill.

‘Well, if he’s expecting you about the evening, we better gather a bigger company in case we have to carry him.’ He laughed briefly. Jiho smiled back, slightly, reassured. ‘Why didn’t you fetch Sehyukie though?’

Jiho shrugged.

‘It was the middle of the lesson, I was hiding and he was talking to the principal about Sangwonie. And I think they mentioned Hansolie as well.’

Hojoon frowned.

‘Poor Sangwonie is a huge pain in the ass here, you know. I mean, he’s proud for real, but here he’s a bit too much. By a bit I mean extremely.’ He took Jiho by the elbow, leading him down the corridor. ‘Come, I’ll tell the principal about you. Thank goodness we are having the Minister of Culture visit us soon. This’s gonna serve as an awesome excuse for pretty much anything.’

Jiho raised his eyebrows.

‘For real, huh?! Is this uni that big?’

Hojoon gave a short laugh.

‘We-ell... it’s not, nah. But there’s that one really famous past student, an actress, and everyone thinks it’s their duty to come and see which place she honoured with her presence. Well, there’s positivity: if it hadn’t been for that lady, the university would probably be shit by now.’

Jiho sighed. Hojoon shot him a glance.

‘No-no, it’s fine. I mean, it’s not like anything of this is for real anyway. Wait here, I’ll be right back.’

He sent him an encouraging half-smile before walking into the teachers’ room and closing the door behind his back. Jiho fished out his phone and got down to browsing his phonebook for any other familiar names.

Hojoon didn’t take long. He strutted out of the teachers’ room backwards, smiling and reassuring somebody that they sure will and that she needn’t worry. He closed the door and turned to Jiho triumphantly.

‘Done!’

Jiho slipped his phone back into his pocket – the phonebook didn’t have anything useful to offer anyway, - and nodded.

‘Cool. Where are we going now?’

Hojoon took him by the elbow again, leading him back, in the direction of the staircase.

‘We’re lucky they opened the roof,’ he informed. ‘I will tell you all I know and we will figure out the plan. The next break is big break, so we’ll get right to it.’

Jiho shrugged.

‘Sounds right to me.’

‘They didn’t fail to mention Sangwonie, you know.’ Hojoon let go of Jiho to open the door gentlemanly in front of him. ‘Had to say I’d try and talk to him again – well, that wasn’t _completely_ a lie, was it?’

Jiho chuckled. Hojoon led the way now, walking a few stairs ahead.

‘Poor guy. In this universe, he’s totally unbearable. He’s a freshman, and the school year only started a few months ago, but already all we have about him is trouble. Pretty unforgiving, he is.’

‘Sehyukie thinks he has potential,’ Jiho remarked. ‘And he said something about his background.’

Hojoon’s face twitched, and Jiho caught that.

‘What is it?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows. Hojoon turned his back to him, walking faster, and Jiho had to hurry to keep up.

‘They don’t talk about that here,’ Hojoon dropped. ‘He’s adopted. Rumours are, his parents are alive and have fun boozing and beating the living hell out of each other. Thank goodness it’s finally not him.’

‘...oh.’

Hojoon sighed, stopping on the fifth floor and looking around.

‘He studies music and composition, if you wanna know. Don’t give this all much thought for now. You said they mentioned Hansol. What did they say?’

Jiho glanced to the closed door of the graphic design faculty. The students were slowly disappearing in the classrooms. Some waved at Hojoon and he waved back.

‘Well, the principal said that Sangwon was not Hansol, and,’ just like the principal, Jiho lowered his voice precautiously, ‘there was no one to make sure he stays here...’

Hojoon glanced at him, eyes wide, grabbed his upper arm and dragged him up the last flight of stairs. He pushed another door open and shoved Jiho out and into the sunlight. They both had to squint hard at once. Hojoon’s hand slid down to Jiho’s and he dragged him on, up to the railing, where he finally stopped and looked around. The roof was empty.

‘Hey, what’s the deal?’

Hojoon leaned onto the railing and looked down.

‘The thing is, I’ve never even heard of Hansol being here,’ he explained. ‘And that’s pretty weird. If he needed someone to fix his – oh knock it – _pay_ for his staying in the university, he puh-robably had problems adjusting. Given that I never heard of him, his problems were _puh-robably_ the direct opposite of Sangwon’s.’

Jiho squinted.

‘The little quiet nerd whom everyone picks on? Doesn’t sound quite like Hansol.’

Hojoon scoffed.

‘Man, Hansol doesn’t quite fit into the norms of this society – especially among students of a not very big university. What do you think he would do if a sort of a community all turned up against him?’

Jiho licked his lips, looking away.

‘Well, my first guess would be... express his being uncomfortable? Try to retort?’

‘And if that doesn’t work?’

‘Uh...’

Hojoon turned to him, lips pressed up.

‘Okay, I’ll give you a hint. Hansol’s the type to start over. What is essential to start something from zero?’

Jiho frowned, the puzzle starting to get together in his head.

‘Delete? Leave everything behind and never return?’

Hojoon clicked his fingers, pointing at him.

‘Exactly! He withdrew. I can _bet_ he withdrew. And his parents paid for his staying. And probably persuaded him to give it another chance.’

Jiho nodded.

‘The principal said, this year even Hansol was showing some progress.’

‘So he’s not a freshman.’

‘A fair guess, given how old he is.’

‘Well, if he had issues like I’ve guessed, he is probably year two.’

Jiho shrugged.

‘Probably.’

‘This is getting really interesting.’

Jiho turned away, suddenly finding something curious to look at on the roof of the opposite building. He had thought the adventure would be fun and easy, but vague tragic backstories didn’t sound promising. Jiho’s had enough of difficult past and he didn’t want to have a game dwelling on it.

Hojoon, however, looked quite enthusiastic. He was swaying slightly on his feet, back and forth, his eyes narrowed tensely.

‘Anyway, there are guys I have some certainty about. Sangdo is a huge nerd, he’s the last year of Music and Composition, and all he does is work. He’s determined to become a singer, but he’s inclined to opera. He has a real nice tenor, I gotta say. He’s always busy, but I don’t think there will be any trouble. And I also know Yooncheolie, and this one is a walking problem.’

‘Another one?’ Jiho inquired sceptically, shooting Hojoon a glance.

‘Well, the thing is, the guy is just _too_ helpful. He’s still unsure of what he wants to do, he studies music and composition, but he dances with the dancers after hours, and he also sometimes appears about acting and oratory, and sometimes he’s in the council. I don’t know why he’s trying to fit in so badly, but he looks terrible. I heard he was dating someone from the university, but those are just rumours. I don’t know where he’d find the time.’

Jiho chewed on his lip a little.

‘I thought you would know all the gossips. You look like the type.’

He glanced at Hojoon’s clean stylish loafers. Hojoon caught his look and smirked.

‘You know what’s good about being the head of the council? You know stuff. A fuckton of info. And you know what is bad? All of the info is official. Official info quite often differs _dramatically_ from reality.’

Jiho nodded, admitting the remark right.

‘What do you yourself study, though?’

Hojoon smiled wider.

‘What is your first guess?’

Jiho examined him head to toe.

‘Drama or dancing?’

Hojoon laughed heartily.

‘Neither! It’s graphic design.’

Jiho puffed, covering his mouth with his hand. Hojoon gazed at him approvingly.

‘I actually regret not going into fashion design, but here in the uni I had gotten quite a few necessary acquaintances. My plan is to finish the graphic design, learn some technology and go pursuing my dream.’ He sighed mockingly. ‘Such a pity I will never have the chance to live this life to the end.’

Jiho pushed him in the shoulder.

‘You know you’re not a fashion designer. You’re a fashion disaster!’

They both laughed again.

‘Tell me about me, though,’ Jiho suggested, straightening. ‘I mustn't raise any suspicions, and I don’t even know who I am here.’

Hojoon glanced at him before turning away and leaning slightly over the railing. A smirk touched his lips again.

‘Well, what about you. Shin Jiho. Acting and oratory, sophomore year. A pretty good friend of mine, but for some reason your best friend is Sanggyunie. He’s a year younger, but you study together. He always gets you in trouble, but you don’t mind. He’s the only one allowed to get you in trouble, for that matter. You don’t have all that many friends, though.’

‘Huh?’ Jiho glanced to him. ‘And why is that?’

Hojoon shrugged. Jiho shoved him with his elbow.

‘Come o-on. You know, I know that you do. You’re everyone’s friend, you gotta know.’

Hojoon scoffed.

‘You wouldn’t wanna know.’

‘I’m asking you because I do want.’

Hojoon sighed.

‘Don’t complain, then. From what I’ve gathered, those who know you too briefly think you’re posh, and those who got a little closer think you’re dumb.’

Jiho pressed up his lips.

‘That’s… quite a contrast.’ He inhaled loudly, trying to keep his calm. ‘I’ve… I’ve been called dumb, yes, but posh…’

He tried to make a face, to hide his feeling, but to no use. Hojoon looked into his face, and put his hand on his back, moving a little closer.

‘On come on, it’s not like anything of this is real. Don’t waste your time being offended, I mean, this is all programmed, isn’t it? And it’s an alternate universe, man, for all it’s worth, you could have been Gandalf. I bet a beard would have suited you.’

Jiho gave a half-smile, not convinced. Hojoon changed in expression, and smacked his arm with the back of his hand.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, get your shit together! You asked me to tell you, so I did.’

Jiho nodded, admitting him right.

‘You never mentioned Byungjoo, you know,’ he remarked, to change the subject. Hojoon squinted, recalling.

‘Um… all I really know about him is that he studies choreography,’ he confessed. ‘Not even the year. But I bet we could find him with Sehyukie.’

Jiho nodded.

‘Then, we should fetch Sehyuk first.’

Hojoon tapped his index finger on the middle of Jiho’s chest.

‘E-xactly. On the big break they have a council on the first floor, and we could catch him before they start. We should better be off right now.’

‘Wait,’ Jiho touched Hojoon’s arm, as he had already turned to walk away. ‘No plan?’

Hojoon turned back to him and shrugged.

‘I thought we had figured the plan. We fetch Sehyuk, ask him about Byungjoo, then fetch the same Byungjoo, Sangdo, Yooncheol, Hansol, and Sangwon, - in any order you prefer, - and then we will all go to fetch Sanggyunie and fall asleep.’

Jiho nodded slightly.

‘Sounds about right. We going?’

Hojoon hurried after him as he opened the door and let himself in first.

* * *

The first floor was still quiet. There were twenty minutes remaining till the end of the lesson, and Hojoon and Jiho were already tired of playing all of the word games they knew. They sat side by side on the window sill, each in his own phone, and waited. Hojoon stuck his earphones in, and Jiho kept his ears free, but his mind was busy. He stared into the air just over his phone’s darkened screen.

At first, he thought it would be the best idea to fetch Yooncheol first, as he decided it would be the easiest. From Hojoon’s explanations, it followed that Yooncheol was pretty much everywhere, and most probably a lot of folks knew him. But then he started worrying about Hansol, and his mental well-being. From Hansol, his thoughts travelled to Sangwon, and he decided that Sehyuk would want to get him first. Then he cursed himself for not thinking about Byungjoo or Sangdo. _Damn it. Who?!_

The door opened sharply, breaking his messy train of thoughts. Jiho turned, startled, almost instinctively reaching his hand back for Hojoon. A huge black double bass case appeared at the door, fidgeted slightly, looking for a perfect angle, and finally managed to get out. It turned out to be supported by a tall, fat boy with a cheerful face.

'Come on, man!' he threw to somebody behind his back and chuckled.

'Oh look, the strings!' Hojoon remarked, shoving his earphones into his bag. Jiho cast him a glance and turned back to where ‘the strings’ were coming out. A smaller case, most probably containing a cello, followed the double bass, then a couple more cellos hurried right after. 'They've probably had their rehearsal,' Hojoon explained from behind his back. 'Come on, we need to keep an eye out for Sehyukie…'

He was interrupted by a loud gasp. The strings turned over their shoulders, but hurried away, called by the double bass. The most curious stopped, but were quickly pushed on by some fidgety violinists. Jiho distinguished a figure pressing the other one to the wall by its neck, just before his view was blocked by the gathering crowd. Driven by worry and curiosity, he hurried to the spot, Hojoon – ‘Hey! Hey wait for me, damn ye?!’ – following suit.

'What did you say about me, you bitch?!' a familiar voice cried out, and there was a loud thud of a body hitting the ground. 'Repeat that to my face!'

'Yeah, I can repeat!' – and the sound of spitting, followed by an ugly smack of a fist against flesh. Jiho pushed a few younger students away, and finally glimpsed the fight unfolding on the floor.

All he could see was a back and two pairs of legs. A guy, swarthy, dressed in all black, delivered another blow to the one he was pressing to the ground, and then his victim gave a mighty roar and flipped their position, pressing the dark boy to the floor with his knee on his stomach. Jiho gasped. The second boy was sturdier, and seemed bigger because of it. His hair was long and bleached, and his purple tee was stained with blood dripping from his nose. Jiho recognized them both. The blond was Byungjoo, and his opponent was Sangwon, a significantly thinner Sangwon, and a thousand times more desperate.

'You're a fucking bastard,' Byungjoo spat into Sangwon's face, pressing onto his neck. Sangwon grabbed his forearm, giving out a gurgling sound. 'You're fucking garbage, you're a pathetic junkie, just like your whore of a mother!'

Sangwon jerked under him. His face was turning grey. Jiho rushed to interfere, but someone pushed him back and shushed him.

'Oh my fuck, interrupt them!' Hojoon whispered hotly from behind. 'Byungjoo looks like he'll kill him, or anyone else who tries to interfere, you must fetch him!'

'Byungjoo!'

Byungjoo didn't even raise his head. He let go of Sangwon's neck, and he gasped for air, hands reaching involuntarily to his throat. Byungjoo leaned over his face with an ugly smile.

'I can kill you, if I want, no one will cry for you,' he hissed, then rose sharply, and stepped over Sangwon, raising his leg to kick him. He didn't have time. Sangwon reached out in one huge, desperate effort, and grasped at his leg, jerking it back.

'Oh bitch!'

Byungjoo fell to his knees, and Sangwon was immediately on his back, choking him from behind. He was slightly taller, and that gave him advantage.

'Why don't you do it, then?!' he roared, trying to kick Byungjoo between the legs.

'Sangwonie!'

Sangwon turned his head slightly to the pet name, and Jiho lashed forward again, trying to rip through the thick crowd. Now Byungjoo was starting to gurgle, trying to grasp at something in the air, but Sangwon didn't release his chokehold. Nobody made a motion to stop them, the crowd of terrified faces. The guys and girls around were trying to hold Jiho back.

'Sangwonie, stop!'

He made another effort, and something in front of him finally gave. He fell to the ground and hurried to rise, but at that moment a familiar low voice sounded over everyone's heads.

'Seo Sangwon!'

Sangwon let go of Byungjoo's neck and stumbled back. Byungjoo fell forward to all fours, wheezing and coughing. Sangwon crawled backwards, shaking his head, looking up to where the crowd had quickly dissolved, revealing the tall figure of the principal. Jiho reached his arm out and grabbed his shoulders. Sangwon turned to him, his eyes like those of a little cornered animal.

'Sangwonie…'

Sangwon gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. Jiho barely registered the quick shadow of Hojoon slide out in front of the principal.

'Mr. Principal! Please wait, let me explain!'

The principal stretched out his arm and softly, but confidently, pushed Hojoon out of the way.

'Wait, Mr. Principal!'

Hojoon jumped after him, but the principal didn't spare him as much as a glance.

'Back, Jiho,' he commanded. Jiho froze, grasping at Sangwon's shoulders, looking straight up at the man over him. The principal's lips turned into a thin line. The next moment, he gave a horse-like grunt, reached out, and lifted Sangwon by his upper arm.

Sangwon jerked his shoulder, but didn't even try to fight. His eyes were locked with Jiho's, and his lips were trembling. Byungjoo had crawled off and got lost.

The principal dragged Sangwon into the middle of the empty space. The most courageous boys and girls watched them, their backs pressed into walls. Hojoon tried again to address him, but trailed off under a murderous look. The principal's voice was thunderous.

'How will you explain this, Seo Sangwon?!'

Sangwon remained silent, never taking his eyes off Jiho.

'Mr. Principal …' Jiho tried, but the principal took a step at him, still grasping at Sangwon's arm.

'Shut – UP!'

Jiho's nostrils flared. From behind the principal's back, a quick figure appeared, and stopped in its tracks. It was straight and thin, light in its footfall – Sehyuk. As he noticed Sangwon hanging limp in the principal’s grasp, the look on his face spoke acceptance of certain death. The principal turned from Jiho to Sangwon again. Sehyuk shrank, as if trying to disappear. The principal lifted his head and turned his face to him. His voice turned quiet and menacing.

‘Do you know what happened here, Sehyuk?’

Sehyuk’s look wandered from the principal to Sangwon, and back again.

‘I…’

‘I will tell you,’ the principal shook Sangwon, like a doll, and the guy dangled limply, barely standing on his feet, trying to catch Sehyuk’s look, but Sehyuk wouldn’t look at him again. The principal’s voice was rising: ‘This… _boy_ you told me to be nice to – this _boy_ has just almost killed a person!’

‘Mr. Principal, it wasn’t his fault!’ Hojoon tried desperately, his voice thin and ringing. ‘If you give me just a minute, I will explain…’

‘SHUT UP!!!’

The roar quite literally blew Hojoon away. He took a few steps back, and stopped, his lips pressed up weirdly. The principal turned back to Sehyuk.

‘I want to remind you, Sehyuk, that you told me he was a prodigy.’

‘N-not exactly…’ Sehyuk tried, but the principal shook Sangwon again, and Sehyuk trailed off.

‘Does it justify what he’s just done?! Does it justify choking a person?! Does it justify almost killing a schoolmate?!’

‘I never said I justified him,’ Sehyuk said, desperately, his face a look of pain. ‘I only ever said that he’s smart, and that he’s worth a chance. I don’t know what he’s done, but I know that his mates bully him cruelly, and I suggest…’

‘I don’t care what you suggest,’ the principal said, suddenly quietly, straightening. ‘ _I_ suggest we take it to my office, and there we’ll talk.’

Sehyuk nodded, clenching his teeth. His expression changed momentarily, and muscles on cheeks rolled under his skin.

‘ _Fine, Mr. Principal_.’

The polite addressing sounded somehow especially poisonous. The principal narrowed his eyes, shooting Sehyuk a murderous glance, but said nothing, dragging Sangwon on with him. Sehyuk followed them, straight and quiet.

‘I’ll find you, Jiho!’ Sangwon called bravely, jerking his arm out of the principal’s hand and turning back to give Jiho a slightly trembling smile. Jiho bit his lower lip.

Somebody grabbed his shoulders and shook him out of his trance. Jiho blinked, focusing on Hojoon.

‘Jiho!’

Jiho looked at him, suddenly aware that he was still sitting on the floor, at a loss.

‘Jiho, get up. Quick! The plan’s changed, we have to split here.’

Jiho frowned, quickly getting up and scooping his backpack from the floor, trying his best to collect himself.

‘Wh-what? Why?’

‘We can’t waste time. I will go and find Yooncheol, and you run and fetch Sehyuk, and get back with him and Sangwon. We’ll meet up here, or anywhere, you call me. Or I’ll call you. Okay?’

Jiho nodded, pulling out his phone.

‘Yes. Okay. Fine. Give me your number. And where’s the principal’s office, by the way?’

* * *

The door clicked open and Sangwon walked out, his back straight, his jaw locked. He closed the door behind his back – and suddenly dropped his stance, grasped himself, and took a loud breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. Jiho jumped to his feet from the seat he had been fidgeting on. There was no doubt that it was actually Sangwon, although the stoop was unusual, and the protective pose too vulnerable for the Sangwon he knew. Jiho ran to him and grabbed him into his arms. Sangwon released himself immediately, straightening again. He chuckled against Jiho’s shoulder and tapped his back.

‘I’m fine,’ he reassured, freeing himself and raising his chin slightly, like a soldier. ‘No need to worry about me.’

Jiho eyed him head to toe. Sangwon was seemingly smaller, drier, somehow quicker in his motions. His black clothes turned out to be grayish with time and wear. He smelled weird – of cheap deodorant and sweat, and of earth. Reddish-purple marks were unevenly circling his neck, only just beginning to darken. But the look in his eyes was purely Sangwon’s, intent and challenging. Jiho smiled slightly.

‘Yeah, I believe so. Is Sehyuk still there? ‘

Sangwon didn’t have time to answer. The door slammed loudly as Sehyuk stormed out, stomping loudly. He didn’t really see the way, his hair fell into his face, he was red with rage. He didn’t take more than three wide steps as he ran right into Jiho, and both gasped. Sehyuk shied back and stared at the guys in front of him, his look a mix of surprise and poorly managed anger.

‘Sehyukie?’

There was a long silence, during which Sehyuk’s face elongated impossibly. Jiho and Sangwon watched him with widening smiles. Sehyuk shook his head and rubbed his eyes.

‘Ji-Jiho?..’

Jiho laughed briefly.

‘The hero of the day, if you please.’

Sehyuk looked away, gathering his thoughts. Then, he stepped forward, taking both guys by the shoulders and leading them down the corridor, his face still a look of confusion.

‘Tell us what you know,’ Jiho demanded impatiently, shrugging his arm off and walking backwards in front of him to peek into his face.

Sehyuk glanced to him.

‘You should better tell me what _you_ know first. Are we three the team now? Do you have a plan?’

Jiho rolled his eyes.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, you’re the teacher here! You gotta help us out. We need to meet up with Hojoon now, and then we’ll figure it out, okay? Come on, what do you know?’

Sehyuk looked at him, confused. Sangwon shot him a glance and looked back at Jiho, too.

‘You mean about the other guys, right?’

Jiho nodded enthusiastically. Sehyuk frowned.

‘We-ell…’

He didn’t have time to finish. Jiho’s phone vibrated violently, making him start, and he reached in his pocket, cursing under his breath.

‘Hey, Hojoonie.’

‘Jiho? Are Sehyuk and Sangwon with you?’ Hojoon sounded worried, and Jiho pricked up.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have some not really good news. You guys, meet me down in the foyer, alright? The plan’s changing again.’

‘Oh goodness,’ Jiho exhaled, biting his lip. ‘Fine. Alright. We’re coming.’

Hojoon had already hung up, having muttered a crumpled goodbye. Jiho shoved his phone back in his pocket and turned to Sangwon and Sehyuk.

‘We gotta run,’ he informed. ‘There is something going on.’

‘There is always something going on in this university,’ Sehyuk muttered, but Jiho was already throwing open the door to the staircase. Sehyuk turned to check if Sangwon was keeping up and followed Jiho down, running his hand along the railing.

* * *

 

Hojoon ran to meet them at the bottom of the staircase. Jiho stopped on the last stair, looking down at his worried face. Hojoon was alone, and that smelled of no good. Hojoon glanced over Jiho’s shoulder.

‘Hi, Sangwonie. Hello, Sehyukie.’

‘Where’s Yooncheol?’ Jiho asked, frowning slightly.

Hojoon shook his head.

‘Well, these are the bad news I had to tell you. I actually _did_ meet Yooncheolie. He looks terrible, Jiho. He’s like a shadow of a man.’

‘Why didn’t you bring him over, then?!’

Hojoon closed his eyes for a moment.

‘Because he was barely able to walk. I took him to the doctor, man. I think they’ll send him home now.’

‘We gotta catch him!’

Everybody turned to Sehyuk.

‘Exactly,’ Hojoon nodded. ‘We gotta go and wait at the door. I have some more news.’

‘What is that?’ Jiho hurried to keep up with Hojoon’s pace.

‘Is that Byungjoo?’ Sangwon asked, running up from the other side. ‘I guess he has to be at the doctor’s, too.’

‘Yup. He is.’ Sangwon looked away. ‘I don’t think he needs to go home, though,’ Hojoon reassured quickly.

‘He would probably fake to be sent home,’ Sangwon dropped. ‘To make it look like I was about to kill him, or something…’ He grinned darkly. ‘Well, to be completely honest, I was.’

‘Oh quit!’ Sehyuk slammed him on the back so hard Sangwon started. ‘The Byungjoo that is in this universe drives everyone insane.’

They were quickly approaching the door out of the building. The sunlight from the outside was falling in rectangular puddles on the floor.

‘And, there is yet something else,’ Hojoon remarked. ‘I found out about Hansolie.’

Sangwon raised his head.

‘Yeah? What about him?’

‘He’s sophomore now, he _did_ have adaptation problems, I was correct.’

Jiho huffed.

‘Wow. I guess you were right about everything else, then.’

Hojoon nodded.

‘Pretty much. He’s a son of rich parents, but they want him to find his place in life by himself, so they wouldn’t homeschool him, or send him to a private uni, for that matter. Still they help him out – or they think that they do. His only friend around is Yooncheol. And, you know… something makes me think that the person from the university Yooncheol dates is Hansol.’

Sangwon scoffed.

‘What the hell?!’

‘I mean, it’s not like he told me,’ Hojoon grinned. ‘But that’s a fair guess.’

Sangwon pulled a face.

‘Look,’ Sehyuk interrupted suddenly, pointing to the direction of the staircase.

Everybody turned to look. Two figures were approaching from there, one long and lanky, and the other much shorter. The tall figure was moving slowly, with visible effort. The person was dragging their legs like they were made of lead. The shorter figure was jumpy and sharp, and it looked like it was addressing the other. There was no doubt, as they were approaching, that they were Yooncheol and Byungjoo. Jiho pricked up his ears to listen to what they were saying, barely heard from where they were waiting.

‘…I’ll find out anyway!’

Yooncheol didn’t respond, he just gave a loud sigh.

‘What? Do you think I’m blind?’

What Yooncheol replied was unintelligible. They were approaching slowly.

‘Is he trying to pick up another fight?’ Sehyuk whispered, shooting Hojoon a glance.

‘Looks much like it,’ Sangwon replied instead of Hojoon. ‘Yooncheol doesn’t look like he will be able to stand one blow.’

‘I don’t think he’s picking up a fight, though,’ Hojoon remarked, quietly, keeping his right ear turned to the direction of the sound. ‘This sounds more like threats, guys.’

Everyone went quiet. The words were heard much more clearly now.

‘What do you think they will do if they find out what you are like? _Who_ you are?’

‘What am I, Byungjoo?’ Yooncheol’s voice didn’t have any emotion, it just sounded immensely tired.

‘You _know_ what you are,’ Byungjoo’s voice seethed with disgust. ‘You’re an abomination, and you will never be welcome here.’

‘What do you want from me?’

‘I don’t _want._ I _need_ you to step back and not be an obstacle. Hansol deserves much better friends than you. You’re holding him back. He could be our part and parcel, but he’s stuck with a guy like you.’

Yooncheol knitted his eyebrows.

‘Yes? I think Hansol was being _quite_ clear when he told you never to approach him again.’

Something like anger slipped in his intonation, poorly masked by fatigue. Byungjoo snarled and ran up in front of him, blocking his way. Yooncheol took a step to the side, and Byungjoo mirrored his move, making him stop. Yooncheol glared down at him, silent.

‘If there’s anything you do well, it’s manipulating. And it’s fairly easy to manipulate Hansol.’

Yooncheol didn’t look away.

‘How can I manipulate you into letting me pass?’ he asked wearily. ‘I’ll fall down right on you. And I can also vomit.’

Byungjoo stepped aside, following Yooncheol with his stare as he passed. Yooncheol sent him a glance back. Jiho couldn’t see his face, but he guessed a look of contempt from under the half-closed eyelids.

‘Think about my words!’ Byungjoo threw at his back. Yooncheol huffed, not turning to him, quickening his pace just a bit. Jiho glanced nervously at Byungjoo’s figure heading off in the direction of the staircase.

‘Byungjoo! Yooncheolie!’

Yooncheol raised his head and squinted sickly at the guys in front of him.

‘It’s me, Jiho. Look at me.’

Yooncheol focused on Jiho with visible effort, stopping in his tracks.

‘Come on?..’

Yooncheol’s eyes opened wide.

‘Jiho?!’

Jiho smiled with relief, casting Hojoon a glance. Hojoon, too, looked much eased.

‘Oh goodness!’ Yooncheol took a wide step forward and almost fell, but Sangwon rushed to him just in time to catch him and help him to his feet. Yooncheol leaned onto him, breathing heavily.

‘Sorry, Sangwonie,’ he muttered softly.

‘It’s okay,’ Sangwon reassured, slipping his arm around Yooncheol’s waist. ‘You just hold on, okay? Don’t pass out.’

Yooncheol gave a short laugh.

‘Well, this is gonna be harder than it sounds.’

‘You do realise you can’t go home now?’ Hojoon came up to him and took him under his other arm. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s fine,’ Yooncheol replied, weakly.

‘How much haven’t you slept, again?’

‘This is the third day,’ Yooncheol shrugged. Hojoon shook his head.

‘Very irresponsible of you.’

Yooncheol smiled apologetically.

‘Welp, I didn’t know that my universe was fake, and that you guys would come for me.’

‘It’s not fake as is, though,’ Hojoon muttered. ‘Anyway. Is there anything we could get you?’

He led their way towards the window, and, together with Sangwon, they sat Yooncheol on the sill. He leaned his back on the glass, and closed his eyes. Sehyuk grabbed his forearm and shook him. Yooncheol lifted his heavy eyelids with effort, and gave him a weary look.

‘Don’t you fall asleep.’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘No. No, I won’t.’

‘You really shouldn’t close your eyes,’ Sangwon reminded. ‘You’ll pass out. And we don’t really know what will happen then. You might disappear right away as you fall asleep, and we might not be able to wake you up.’

‘I don’t think he’ll stand much longer,’ Jiho remarked thoughtfully. ‘I know what might help. Hojoon, where is the nearest chemist’s?’

Hojoon glanced at him, frowning.

‘What are you about to buy?’

‘I have a recipe, it has always helped me through the trainee days.’

Sehyuk licked his lips uneasily.

‘I haven’t yet heard the exact recipe, but I’m fairly certain there’s nothing healthy about it.’

Jiho shot him a glance from under furrowed brows.

‘I mean, we all had our recipes in trainee days,’ Sehyuk explained, looking down.

‘There is no other way to keep me awake now,’ Yooncheol made his presence known, trying to straighten. Sangwon held him back with a hand on his chest.

‘Exactly,’ Jiho nodded.

‘It’s not like I’m going to buy something illegal. Tell me where the chemist’s is, and where the nearest grocery store.’

Hojoon squinted, but nodded.

‘Fine. The chemist’s is across the road. There’s a little grocery shop right beside it. Better hurry, okay?’

Jiho smiled.

‘Money,’ Yooncheol dropped suddenly. ‘Check how much you have.

Jiho came up to the window and put his backpack onto the sill to open it. The others watched him intently as he rummaged through the pockets. Finally, Jiho fished out a small wallet, and opened it. Hojoon peeked over his shoulder, tiptoeing to see.

‘You wanna buy caffeine?’ he asked, sceptically.

‘And something else,’ Jiho replied, elusively, turning to face him.

Hojoon huffed loudly and reached into his pocket.

‘There you are.’ He held his hand out, offering money. Jiho couldn’t tell how much there was. He took it, and counted quickly.

‘Thank you.’ He smiled at Hojoon with the corner of his lips, and Hojoon smiled back.

‘Hurry up,’ he said, pushing Jiho away.

Jiho ran out of the door, but he caught Sehyuk’s words:

‘This is all cool, but you know whom we missed?’

And Hojoon’s quiet reply:

‘Once again.’

He didn’t need to ask to know whom they – he – had missed. He pushed the thought away, fixing his gaze on the drugstore across the street. Byungjoo could wait, but Yooncheol could not.

* * *

As he threw the door open, three faces turned to him immediately. The fourth was slower. Jiho crossed the distance between them in quick, wide strides. The others stepped back, giving him way. He threw his arm out before himself as he approached, handing Yooncheol pills in a small box.

‘Two,’ he said. ‘Two for you.’

Yooncheol opened the package, unbearably slowly. Sangwon scoffed and pulled it out of his hands.

‘Give me.’

He fidgeted for barely a second, and held out his open palm with two little pills in the middle.

‘Take that.’

‘You got water?’ Yooncheol looked at him wearily, scooping the pills from Sangwon’s palm. Jiho was already opening the can he had had under his arm.

‘I got something better.’

Sehyuk sighed, watching as Jiho handed Yooncheol the drink – the strongest energy drink he knew.

‘Take them, and drink this. Then wash your face with cold water,’ Jiho instructed, looking Yooncheol up and down with worried eyes. ‘Come on.’

Yooncheol shook his head, keeping his eyes open with humongous effort. He glanced to the pills before throwing them into his mouth, and downing the whole can of the energy drink at once. Jiho bit his lower lip. He saw himself, before and during his trainee days, and his heart nagged. He shook himself, mentally, forcing himself to calm down.

‘Go and wash your face,’ he instructed, a little more sharply than he intended. Yooncheol nodded and slid off the window sill. Sangwon followed him like a tail to the white door, and they both disappeared behind it.

‘Well, I guess we should be down to looking for the rest,’ Sehyuk broke the silence.  ‘We should probably go find Byungjoo, we can’t let him slip away for the third time.’

Jiho pulled a little face, almost unnoticeable. _I’m not a failure for missing him again,_ he told himself, taking a deep breath.

‘Yeah. But I don’t think we can afford dragging Yooncheol around with us. Nor can we be so merciless. We should let him… stay with, say, Sangwon. Somewhere where he can sit down and keep the rest of his strength. Or where he can walk up and down when caffeine starts working. It should be there soon, you know. We could be on our phones and call each other should someone need something.’

Hojoon nodded.

‘That’s fair. We three will make a great team. Sehyukie is a teacher, and he can pretty much get us anywhere. Then, there is me, and you know about me, and then, there is you – the hero of the day, and the only one who can bring us together. We will do just fine.’

Jiho nodded.

‘I’m still worried about Sanggyun,’ he confessed. ‘I have no idea how we’re about to get him, and how we should bring him here.’

‘What’s wrong with Sanggyunie?’ Sehyuk asked.

Across the foyer from them, a little further down the corridor, the toilet door opened, letting out Sangwon and Yooncheol.

‘He’s home with a broken leg,’ Jiho said, looking at their direction absently. ‘I have no idea where he lives…’

‘Oh my God, I thought he was _at least_ paralyzed,’ Sehyuk scoffed. ‘He will get here on his own, you know. And he won’t die. If he wants to proceed, he will have to cooperate.’

‘But I have to fetch him first,’ Jiho raised his eyebrows. ‘And I couldn’t do it via phone call.’

‘Yeah, we figured you need to make eye contact to fetch someone,’ Hojoon added.

They all stepped back again, giving way to Sangwon and Yooncheol this time. Yooncheol took his seat on the window sill, and Sangwon sat beside him.

‘What were you all about?’ he asked, demandingly.

‘About Sanggyun,’ Hojoon replied briskly.

‘What about him?’ Yooncheol called, straightening a bit.

‘He’s home with a broken leg and we have no real possibility to fetch him,’ Jiho said. ‘If I leave for him, we’ll lose plenty of time, and while he’s away there, we can’t be certain that he wouldn’t fall asleep.’

‘Don’t you have any kind of videochat?’ Sehyuk asked, pulling a face. ‘What kind of a deal is it? It’s not like we live in a cave, or something.’

Jiho let out a loud breath. _Oh my God!!!_ He pulled his phone out, swiped through the menu – and, sure thing, there it was, Skype app, winking blue at him.

_Dumb, dumb Jiho!_

No one hurried to confirm his thoughts – thankfully. Sanggyun was in the contact list – the selfie on his icon told so. Beside it was the _offline_ icon. Jiho dialled the phone number and brought the phone to his ear.

Beep.

Beep.

‘Hello?’

Sanggyun’s voice was sleepy. Jiho swallowed hard.

‘Hey there. Sanggyunie, do you have a moment to skype me right now?’

Sanggyun huffed into the phone.

‘Jiho, this is not the best time. I was just about to sleep a bit, I’m so fuckin bored here. Can it wait till you come here yourself?’

‘No, it can’t,’ Jiho said, firmly. ‘This is _fucking_ important, and I need you right now. Don’t you dare fall asleep, this is serious.’

Sanggyun sighed.

‘Fine. I’ll be online just now. Do call. But if it isn’t really as important as you say, I will punch you with my cast when we meet.’

Jiho huffed, rolling his eyes.

‘ _Fine._ Come on, this can’t wait. I’m hanging up.’

He moved to Skype and waited, under the stares of the others. They gathered around him, peeking into the screen, breathing into his ears. Every second fell heavy on his head. For the first time that day, he realized that the possibility to lose his friends was too real. Yooncheol, at least, was close at hand, and he could help him, while Sanggyun was maybe on the other end of the town. _What if he decides it can wait?_ _What if he falls asleep before he can call? What if he has bad internet, or he doesn’t turn the video on, or Skype has technical difficulties?.._

The familiar sound broke his train of thoughts. Jiho tapped the screen and it went black for another long second. At last, Sanggyun’s face appeared, sleepy and darkened.

‘Sanggyunie? Sanggyunie, look at me. Look at me now.’

Jiho tried his best not to sound desperate. He stared into the frontal camera of his phone, waiting, until he heard a loud gasp.

‘ _Oh my God!!!’_

Not daring to believe his luck, Jiho looked at Sanggyun’s face.

‘Jiho?! Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck!..’

Sanggyun covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes square. He didn’t look sleepy any more. Jiho cast Sehyuk a glance, unable to hold a slight smile of disbelief. Sehyuk beamed back, his expression clearly saying: ‘ _I told you!’_ Jiho suppressed a burning desire to hug him, looking back to Sanggyun.

‘Goodness, I could have fallen asleep!’ Sanggyun muttered, rubbing his cheek, then biting down on his thumb. ‘Goodness. I take back what I said earlier. You’re a genius. To use Skype, it’s…’

‘It was Sehyukie’s idea,’ Jiho interrupted. ‘Enough. We have to gather together, you know. How bad is your leg?’

Sanggyun glanced down, shrugging.

‘I’ve got crutches for walking. I haven’t really got the hang of walking with them, but well, not like I will need it again.’ He gave a short, forced laugh, and scoffed at himself, getting serious again. ‘Anyway, the hardest thing now will be,’ he lowered his voice, ‘to get past my mum.’

‘That’s pretty easy, actually,’ Sangwon cut in, pushing into the frame. ‘Tell her you want something tasty, and I bet she’ll be glad to bring it to you. If not, you can use it as an excuse to get out.’

‘Oh, hi, Sangwonie!’ Sanggyun called. Sangwon waved his hand, smiling widely. Jiho glanced to him and raised his eyebrows. Sangwon gave him a self-satisfied smirk. Jiho looked back to Sanggyun.

‘You heard the guy? That’s pretty brilliant, if you ask me.’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘Fine then. I will be on the phone. Call me, if you need to tell me anything. How many of you guys are there?’

‘Well,’ Jiho looked up at the guys around him. ‘There’s Sangwonie, Sehyukie, Hojoonie, and Yooncheolie.’

‘So, you still don’t have Byungjoo, Hansol, or Sangdo?’

Jiho nodded.

‘Exactly. But we’re working on it.’

‘It’s not gonna be difficult when you have Sehyukie, is it?’ Sanggyun smiled.

‘I really do hope so,’ Jiho said, softly. ‘Anyway, you should better get going. Keep us updated, alright?’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘Yup. I’ll see you soon. Hold on there, you guys.’

‘We will,’ Jiho said, glancing to Yooncheol. Yooncheol raised his weary eyes, and gave him a little reassuring smile. The screen darkened as Sanggyun hung up.

‘Well, we, too, should get going, right?’ Sangwon said, jumpy. Jiho looked at him and sighed.

‘You know, Sangwonie…’

‘We can’t go all together,’ Hojoon interrupted. ‘Look, you aren’t in good books around here, are you?’ Sangwon looked away, pulling a little face. Hojoon put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Besides, I don’t think Yooncheolie will be able to keep up. I’m sorry, Yooncheolie.’

He looked up to Yooncheol apologetically, but Yooncheol nodded firmly, admitting him right.

‘No-no, it’s fine. It’s true. I’m still weak. I should have taken caffeine much earlier, now my falling asleep is just a matter of time. It will have to be someone’s mission to keep me awake, I’m afraid.’

He looked to Sangwon with a small sad smile. Sangwon sighed.

‘We three will go and find the others,’ Hojoon continued. ‘There are not so many left, and I don’t think it will be too hard. We will hurry up, not to make you two wait long. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Sangwon nodded, looking away, his face a look of disappointment. ‘We should probably take our place outside. Can we refer to you and Sehyuk, if anyone asks?’

Hojoon nodded firmly.

‘Absolutely. We will confirm that you’re waiting for us.’

Yooncheol slipped down from the window sill and sighed.

‘Sorry for that, Sangwonie. Sorry that you have to sit here with me.’

Sangwon turned to him – and, as their eyes met, he cracked a little smile.

‘Don’t you dare say that,’ he said, softly. ‘It’s fine. It’s not like sitting around with you is bad.’

Jiho smiled slightly, watching as Sangwon threw his arm around Yooncheol’s waist, supporting him on their way out.

‘So, who first?’ he asked, looking at Hojoon, then pointed his chin at the two walking out of the door. Hojoon looked at the guys, then back at him, and smiled, too.

‘I’d say Sangdo.’

* * *

‘This isn’t him, either, is it?’

Sehyuk squinted, examining the student, who had just walked out of the door of the classroom, and shook his head.

‘Nope.’

Hojoon rolled his eyes.

‘I told you there’s no use waiting for him. He doesn’t go out on breaks. He doesn’t socialize, I mean, like, at all.’

‘Well, but he has to communicate with his teacher on the lessons,’ Sehyuk remarked, shrugging.

Hojoon gave a short laugh.

‘O-oh, he does, pure soul. He’s not proud as is, just hardworking. But all of his teachers think he is willing to walk over heads to success. And, what do you think, - they approve of that! They are so possessive of him, each one of them. I think they’d fight over him if they were allowed to.’

Sehyuk looked away.

‘I guess, I’m of no help here, then. Right?’

Hojoon nodded.

‘I’m afraid. I mean, you don’t even teach him, and they are so suspicious. I could say that the principal needs him, but given how angry the principal must be after _the incident_ , I wouldn’t risk that.’

Sehyuk and Jiho both nodded in agreement.

‘But what then?’ Jiho dared ask, casting a glance at the door of the classroom. ‘I have to fetch him before the lesson starts. You think you'll be able to-'

Hojoon sighed.

‘We used to hang out,’ he confessed. ‘But now he’s always busy. I will try to get him out for a minute. Wait.’

He straightened, and his eyes sparkled weirdly. Jiho caught his arm.

‘Hey.’

Hojoon looked at him, and jerked his arm out.

‘I’m fine,’ he said firmly. ‘Give me a minute, and he’ll be ours. Just be prepared, okay?’

And, not waiting for an answer, he fixed his shirt and walked off to the classroom. His steps were like the march of a soldier. Jiho watched his back with a little frown, then glanced to Sehyuk and gestured him to follow.

They didn’t have to wait too long. Hojoon and Sangdo appeared at the door, together, Sangdo stepped back and let Hojoon pass. Hojoon walked out slowly, and Jiho tried to catch his eyes, but he was looking straight ahead. As he stopped, Sangdo turned smoothly to face him. He had his back turned right to Jiho and Sehyuk.

‘What did you want, Hojoonie?’

His voice had a tone of some kind of forced tenderness. Jiho slipped around him and stopped beside Hojoon.

‘Hello,’ he greeted, smiling.

Sangdo glanced at him, frowning briefly, and raised his hand into his face, shushing him. He didn’t spare him as much as a word. Jiho glanced at Hojoon. Hojoon put his hand on Sangdo’s arm, guiding it down. He never looked away from him.

‘It’s actually Jiho that wanted to see you…’

Sangdo sighed, taking his hand away. His look down at Hojoon became almost condescending.

‘Hojoonie, I told you, now I have things of importance to take care of,’ he said, and his voice sounded as if he had said that a million times before. ‘I told you I’m sorry, and you know how really much I am. I can’t thank you enough for telling all our friends what the matter is. Please, you have to understand.’

He kept his eyes on Hojoon, and Hojoon stooped weirdly under his gaze, looking away, trying and failing to hide the look of pain on his face. Jiho thought back to Yooncheol’s tired face, heavy eyelids and the look of endless acceptance of fate, and realized he had no time for their backstory. He took a deep breath.

‘Sangdo, it’s really just me. Look at me. I need to talk to you.’

Sangdo sighed, still looking at Hojoon. Now his face was pained, too. He shook his head slightly.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly, and turned to walk away. Jiho couldn’t let him slip. He took a step forward and caught his wrist.

Sangdo stopped in his tracks so sharply Jiho almost heard the ringing sound of something breaking. He swallowed hard, but there was no turning back. He tried to remind himself it was only Sangdo, his friend he had to fetch, but for some reason it didn’t help much. Sangdo turned slowly to Jiho and locked eyes with his – and Jiho saw such power in his gaze he froze. He tried to collect himself – and looked away, unwillingly, immediately cursing himself. It was hard to bear Sangdo’s stare.

‘You have to leave me alone,’ Sangdo said, quietly and distinctly. Through sheer force of will Jiho lifted his gaze and looked into his eyes.

‘Sangdo, come on,’ he said, simply.

That was a win, and he felt it from his stomach up. The powerful gaze was gone instantly. Sangdo opened his eyes wide, and a wonderful smile appeared on his face, slowly but surely. He took a step at Jiho, and drew him into a huge hug, and Jiho couldn’t help but throw his arms around Sangdo – and ease into him momentarily. Sangdo wasn’t scary in the slightest, and Jiho wondered why he even was nervous.

‘Jojo! Oh man, I’m so sorry this took you so long,’ Sangdo whispered, moving away, grabbing Jiho’s shoulders. ‘What a hero of the day we have! You look nice.’

Jiho looked down, smiling widely. Sangdo always knew how to make everyone feel instantly better.

‘There are Sehyuk and Hojoon,’ he reminded. ‘I think Hojoon is kind of upset. What’s the matter?’

Sangdo turned away at once, releasing him. Jiho looked around for Hojoon, but his gaze ran into Sehyuk, standing awkwardly in the middle of the corridor. Upon noticing him, Sangdo gasped and rushed to hug him, too. This is when Jiho finally saw Hojoon. He was leaning against the wall, his face looking fakely smug. He looked like he was trying his best to be the confident guy he was, but his misty gaze somewhere to the side gave him away completely. Jiho felt his heart sting.

‘Hojoonie.’

He turned to the voice calling the name – not his. In a moment, Hojoon did, too. Sangdo stopped a few steps away from him, as if not daring to come closer. Their eyes met, and Sangdo bit his lower lip.

‘They sure know how to fuck with us,’ he said, and his voice was little and guilty.

Jiho looked at Hojoon, frowning in confusion, and he knew he was waiting for any explanation in vain. Hojoon kept his eyes on Sangdo, his face a mixture of feelings Jiho had trouble deciphering. Sangdo looked away.

‘I know this isn’t for real,’ Hojoon said, trying to put on a smile, but he failed miserably. ‘This is not real life.’

‘This reminds me of something, you know,’ Sangdo said. ‘And I know it does you, too.’

Hojoon shook his head and looked down. Jiho glanced helplessly to Sehyuk, and they shrugged at each other, caught in the middle of a strange scene. Students ran or walked past, but for Sangdo and Hojoon time and space seemingly stopped existing.

‘What’s the use of dwelling on that?’ Hojoon said, finally looking up. ‘We both needed that time. You – for yourself, and I – for myself. I’m not a jealous schoolkid, you know. I understand.’

‘I know you do,’ Sangdo said, quietly, taking a little step towards him. ‘I just need you to know I haven’t abandoned you. I never meant to.’

Hojoon sighed and rolled his eyes. Then, he pushed himself lightly off the wall and covered the space between them in two wide strides, stopping in front of Sangdo, and challenging him with a gaze up at him.

‘We have to cut down the bullshit,’ he said, softly. ‘We have stuff to do.’

‘Does that mean you forgive me, or…?’

‘Forgive him for what?’ Jiho decided to make his presence known. Hojoon looked at him and straightened, lifting his chin slightly.

‘The matter is, there’s nothing to forgive him for,’ he said, with a little official smile. He was clearly telling Jiho it wasn’t his business, and Jiho knitted his eyebrows, not understanding.

‘What was this all?’ Sehyuk asked, stepping towards them. Jiho followed him, as he kept looking from Hojoon to Sangdo and back.

They had gotten really close with Hojoon in the recent time. The chemistry between them was exceptional. They talked about everything that was of interest, and even discussed their groupmates and what was going on between them – and Jiho never noticed anything to indicate any kind of falling out between Hojoon and Sangdo.

If only except for the fact that all the time Hojoon used to spend with Sangdo he was now giving to him, Jiho realized, too late, and cursed himself. Something was going on, and he’d missed it. _I’m a shitty friend,_ he thought, and cursed himself again for that thought.

‘There’s no time,’ he said, sharply, forcing himself to focus. ‘There are two more people we have to find now, Byungjoo and Hansol. We have to get going, we have Yooncheolie waiting for us, and he might fall asleep at any moment. Whatever you have going on between you guys, you’re wasting time.’

‘What’s up with Yooncheolie?’ Sangdo looked to Jiho, worry written all over his face.

‘Let’s go, I’ll help you get Byungjoo, and you can explain it on the go,’ Sehyuk interrupted, pushing Sangdo forward. ‘Come on!’

And he strode to the front, leading them. Sangdo looked to Hojoon, then back to Jiho, hurrying to keep up with their pace.

‘S-so?’

Hojoon let out a loud breath.

‘Yooncheol hasn’t slept in three days,’ he said, with pressure. ‘He’s on caffeine now, Jiho took care of that, and Sangwonie keeps an eye on him, but I’m sure he won’t be able to stay awake much longer.’

Sangdo looked down.

‘Oh fuck it. So, we still need to find our Byungjoo, Sanggyunie and Hansolie?’

‘Actually, Sanggyun must be on his way now,’ Jiho remarked. ‘He hasn’t called, and I don’t know if it’s a good or bad sign.’

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Jiho gave a little sound, and took his phone out.

‘Oh, there he is.’

He hurried to answer the call, and brought the phone to his ear.

‘Sanggyunie?’

‘Hey, Jiho,’ Sanggyun’s voice sounded somehow stifled. ‘Look, I can’t talk long, I’m on the bus. But I just have to let you know…’

‘Did you get past your mum?’ Jiho asked quickly, cracking a smile involuntarily. They were walking up the stairs.

‘Yeah, I did, and I didn’t even fall, although those crutches are just amazingly uncomfortable… she’s been calling me non-stop for last fifteen minutes. But listen. I’m stuck. My bus is stuck in traffic, I have literally zero idea when and _if_ it will get out.’

Jiho bit his lower lip. He watched Sehyuk knock on the door of some classroom and had to cover his ear not to hear any distracting sounds.

‘Are you stuck far from the university?’

Sanggyun gave out a hurt noise.

‘Man, incredibly! Especially for my present state. I could have ran, if I had both my legs, maybe. But I can’t run with crutches. And I’m still kind of worried. I mean, my mum is used to me disappearing randomly, but now I have a broken leg.’

‘Maybe you should reply and try to reason with her?’ Jiho suggested, weakly. He knew it was a bad idea.

‘Nah,’ Sanggyun said, firmly. ‘I will hope for the best. I hope you can wait for me.’

‘Almost all of us can,’ Jiho muttered. ‘But you should try to hurry. I don’t know how. But please do. Yooncheolie –’

Hojoon grabbed his shoulder and shook him, demanding his attention.

‘Sanggyunie, I need to go,’ he tried, but Hojoon grabbed the phone out of his hand.

‘Do your job, Jiho!’ he called, demandingly. Jiho looked around, and finally saw Byungjoo, shifting his weight impatiently foot to foot with an expression of disgust. He looked up at Jiho, questioningly.

‘Byungjoo,’ Jiho called, simply. ‘Look at me. Do you recognize me?’

Byungjoo stepped back and grasped his head with both his hands.

‘Oh fuck! Oh fuckfuckfuck!

Sehyuk put his arm softly around Byungjoo’s shoulders as he looked like his knees were about to give.

‘Come on, Byungjoo,’ he said, softly. ‘We have to go, okay? We need to hurry.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Byungjoo muttered, looking up.

‘Oh God, why are _you_ sorry?’ Sangdo exclaimed, pushing everyone out of the way, and hurried to hug Byungjoo. Byungjoo embraced him half-heartedly, looking over his shoulder at the others.

‘You needn’t worry,’ Hojoon reassured confidently. ‘The only thing we regret is letting you slip so many times. Isn’t this right, Jiho?’

Jiho nodded, meeting Hojoon’s glance.

‘It’s fine,’ he reassured. ‘Sangwonie is waiting downstairs, and he thinks it’s fine, too. We really need to hurry. Yooncheolie is not feeling good.’

Jiho’s phone vibrated again in Hojoon’s hand. Hojoon glanced at the screen.

‘It’s Sangwonie,’ he held the phone out for Jiho to take. ‘Answer.’

Jiho brought the phone to his ear.

‘Yes?’

‘Jiho? It’s Yooncheol,’ the voice informed from the speaker. ‘Look, we got trouble.’

‘Huh?’ Jiho knitted his eyebrows. He looked up and caught four concerned stares.

‘I hit Hansol up, to know if he’s okay,’ Yooncheol said, with effort. ‘He’s not around here. His family needed him for something, and he’s on his way home now.’

Jiho felt his heart sink.

‘And… what do we do now?’

‘The only way is to go to his home,’ Yooncheol sighed into the speaker. ‘But there’s another problem. The only person he can more or less look in the eye is me. I’m not even sure about his family. His parents are a bit… how to say it… well, they most probably won’t let him see us. It will be really difficult to, one, get him to go out and meet us, and two – to fetch him.’

‘Can’t we get him to sneak out?’ Jiho asked, in a fallen voice, taking a few steps back and leaning onto the wall. There was a moment of heavy silence.

‘That is not the person, or the home, to sneak out,’ Yooncheol replied. ‘You all, come down, be quick. Have you got Byungjoo?’

‘Yeah, we have,’ Jiho said wearily. ‘We’re coming. Hold on there.’

And he ended the call. As he slipped the phone back into his pocket, he looked up. The four stares were still all on him, and he felt like they were pressing him down.

‘What?’ he said, just to break the silence.

‘It’s us that have to ask you, _what,’_ Hojoon exclaimed in a whisper, grabbing him by the shoulders and leading him towards the stairs, widely gesturing the others to follow. ‘You now, tell me what’s going on.’

‘We got trouble,’ Jiho said, and caught himself mimicking Yooncheol’s accent. ‘Sanggyun is stuck in traffic, and Hansol is taken home. Yooncheol said that his parents won’t let him out, and he is not the one to sneak.’

Sehyuk ran up to them from behind and peeked into Jiho’s face.

‘And do you have any plan for this kind of situation?’

Hojoon shot him a reproachful glance.

‘We’ll gather together downstairs, and then we will come up with one, okay? There’s no use talking about it now. Yooncheol knows much more about Hansol than we all do, or at least it seems so to me.’

‘Not we all,’ Byungjoo made his presence known from behind.

They were already running down the stairs. Jiho grabbed the railing and turned to see Byungjoo’s face.

‘What?’

Byungjoo squinted slightly, making a visible effort to bear the stare.

‘I stalk him in this universe,’ he explained, trying his best to sound calm. ‘I guess I and Yooncheol will be able to fill you in nicely.’

Jiho looked away, widening his eyes. _I expected this to be fun,_ he thought helplessly. _I didn’t want their alternate backstories and real fallings out._

Sangdo pushed him slightly in the back, hurrying him up. Jiho quickened his pace. They stumbled through the corridor on the first floor, through the foyer, and out, into the sunshine. A figure rose from a bench in the front yard, and the other one just raised its arm to wave hello.

Jiho watched from aside as Sangdo hugged Sangwon and Yooncheol, and as Byungjoo greeted them warmly. He noticed Byungjoo’s glances up at Yooncheol – half-uneasy, half-apologetic; and he noticed the way Hojoon crossed his arms on his chest, not looking at Sangdo; and his head hurt from guesses. The sound of thoughts swarming in his brain was getting unbearable, and he decided to intrude.

‘Come on, you guys,’ he said, with pressure, stepping forward. ‘It’s not like you haven’t seen each other in so long. Look, we have a problem.’

And again, he felt himself buried under the concerned stares. He straightened, keeping his cool masterfully.

‘First off, Sanggyun. He’s already fetched. I fetched him via video call, and he’s on his way here stuck in traffic with a broken leg in a cast. Very uncomfortable, from what I can guess. And second, we also have Hansol. Here, I guess, Yooncheol can fill us in. But we’ve fetched everyone we could fetch here, and this, I think, is a success.’

Nods of the heads. Glances at each other. Jiho sighed. He looked at Yooncheol, taking in the dry bitten lips, flared nostrils, and half-closed eyelids, now looking heavier than ever. Yooncheol caught his look and gave him a slight reassuring smile. Jiho smiled back, and felt almost like crying.

‘If Sanggyun is already fetched, he shouldn’t be a problem,’ Yooncheol raised his voice. ‘We just need someone to wait for him.’

‘He shouldn’t be a problem, but his mum very well might,’ Jiho remarked. ‘She’s been on his tail for a while. I mean, he’s a brat – in this universe, but in which wouldn’t he be, to be honest? He’s a little brat, but now he has a broken leg and needs more attention.’

‘I don’t think she will find him in a bus stuck in traffic,’ Byungjoo replied with a shrug. ‘I doubt she will even look there.’

‘The only problem is, he might feel guilty,’ Sangdo said, thoughtfully. ‘I know the feel. If he thinks his mum might cause trouble, he most probably does feel guilty.’

‘I hope he doesn’t answer her calls,’ Jiho sighed.

‘Well, maybe if he does, it will be for the better,’ Sehyuk smiled at him reassuringly. ‘He might try and come up with an excuse. I think he will keep us updated, though…’

‘He should,’ Jiho said, turning to Yooncheol. ‘But what about Hansol?’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘Well, I don’t know if any of you know anything about him. To describe his character briefly, he’s a rich kid with severe anxiety,’ he made a pause and took in a deep breath. His speech was drawled, slow, he took long to gather his thoughts. ‘His parents are overly protective and try to control him and guard him. That’s no surprise, he’s their only kid, and mentally ill. They will forever see him as a wingless nestling. They know about me and might let him see me, but that’s not certain, and we need you, Jiho, to fetch him.’

Jiho bit his lower lip.

‘Why is it _you_ that’s only allowed near him?’ Hojoon asked, inclining his head to the side with a little sly smile.

Yooncheol pressed up his lips ever so slightly. He shot Byungjoo a little glance, but Byungjoo looked down with a weird look on his face.

‘Oh come on, that was rhetorical,’ Sangwon hurried, with a brave smile.

‘It wasn’t, actually,’ Hojoon shrugged. ‘I’m really curious. Maybe it could help us get to him and fetch him. If not us all – at least Jiho.’

Yooncheol shook his head.

‘I don’t think it would be of any help,’ he said, firmly. ‘It’s just that we’re close. We’re best friends, and I think I’m his only friend, at all. He’s been bullied, hated and picked on, and I stood up for him. This is the only reason why he trusts me.’

Byungjoo hid a bitter smirk. Jiho squinted.

‘Why are you smiling like that?’

Everyone looked at Sangwon. He pointed at Byungjoo and looked round everyone.

‘We should get busy, shouldn’t we?’ Jiho tried to interfere, but Sangwon laughed.

‘Come o-on, what kind of a secret can that be? This is not for real anyway. You could tell us for laughs.’

‘I think I already know,’ Hojoon dropped under his breath.

Jiho glanced to Yooncheol and noticed his begging stare into Hojoon’s eyes.

‘We should really be off,’ he insisted, putting his hand on Yooncheol’s shoulder. ‘I and Yooncheolie will go to Hansol’s house, and you guys wait for Sanggyun. Where will we meet up?’

‘I’m going with you,’ Hojoon said, matter-of-factly.

‘I don’t mind,’ said Yooncheol, taking Jiho’s wrist and moving his hand off his shoulder.

‘Are you gonna leave me hanging?’ Sangwon pulled a face.

‘Sorry, Sangwonie, looks like it,’ Jiho patted his shoulder. ‘Come on, you guys?’

Yooncheol rose heavily from the bench and yawned.

‘It isn’t very far,’ he said. ‘We could take a bus from here.’

‘Good,’ Jiho nodded. ‘I need someone to call Sanggyun and tell him our plan. Who will?’

Sehyuk opened his mouth to speak, but Sangdo was quicker.

‘Me!’ He unlocked his phone and his thumb hovered over the screen, ready to type. ‘What’s the number?’

Jiho reached in his pocket for his phone, again.

‘A second. Where are we meeting up though?’

‘The park,’ Sehyuk hurried. ‘It’s not that far from here. We could just lie down on the ground there and take the sleeping pills. Jiho, you must have them.’

Jiho moved his shoulders, slightly hurting already from the weight of the backpack.

‘From what I remember, yeah. I think I’ll leave the backpack here, just take the pills, alright?’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Give me.’

Jiho let the backpack slide off his shoulders, turning his back to Byungjoo and feeling the weight lift.

‘Anyway, Sangdo, you typing?’

Sangdo nodded readily.

* * *

They got onto the bus in a heavy silence. Jiho was thinking about Hojoon and Sangdo, and about Yooncheol, Hansol and Byungjoo, and got gradually more worried. The bus was half-empty. Hojoon, fidgety and weirdly active, sat down by the window, gesturing for Yooncheol to sit with him, and Jiho remained standing beside them. He studied both, and the question itched on the tip of his tongue. He wouldn’t dare to ask Hojoon, he realized, and he knew he wouldn’t get anything out of him in front of witnesses – _any_ witnesses.

‘Yooncheolie.’

Yooncheol raised his head and looked up at him. Jiho noticed the effort with which he forced his eyes open, squinting sickly, and his heart stung.

‘What was Byungjoo smiling about?’

Yooncheol rolled his eyes and gave a long sigh.

‘Why didn’t you ask Byungjoo?’

It seemed like in his present state his deadpan was even more masterful. Jiho smiled with a corner of his mouth.

‘That’s a good question. But I know it’s about you. Byungjoo was picking on you before we fetched you. Am I right?’

Yooncheol looked in front of him.

‘He was,’ he admitted, briskly.

‘And?..’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘In this universe, Byungjoo’s character picks on everyone,’ he said with pressure. ‘He used to pick on Hansol, too. He stalks him. And I stand up for him. Of course he dislikes me.’

‘If he disliked you for getting in the way of his stalking, you would end up like Sangwon,’ Hojoon dropped in. ‘And you’re a much easier target, from what I’ve gathered.’

Yooncheol sent him a long betrayed gaze. Hojoon accepted it and raised his eyebrows slightly.

‘I still think I know the reason.’

‘Why don’t you share it, then?’ Yooncheol asked, wearily.

‘Can I?’

‘You’ve already decided,’ Yooncheol remarked, looking down.

‘Jiho is the last person you should be scared of, you know,’ Hojoon said, suddenly softly. ‘Or me, for that matter.’

Yooncheol put his both hands on the back of the seat in front of him.

‘Come on,’ he dropped.

‘This is not for real anyway,’ Hojoon said calmly. ‘And I don’t know why you should be upset over fictional scenarios. From what I guessed, Byungjoo was disgusted with you for something. He threatened you, and he was telling you not to be an obstacle. You were getting in his way. And you guys were bickering over Hansol. I don’t know if it was so clear to all, but Byungjoo sounded too much like a rejected lover. From this, I dare guess. You and Hansol are a couple in this universe, right?’

Yooncheol gave no answer. He kept looking in front of himself, but his ears burned a bright red. Jiho gave out a loud breath – and then laughed heartily.

‘You’re so dumb,’ he managed. ‘You really got ashamed over a fictional scenario?!’

Yooncheol looked away to the window, and Jiho couldn’t see his face.

‘I’ve had enough of picking on me,’ he said quietly. ‘I really don’t need anyone bringing this up, you got me? And Hansol needs that even less.’

Jiho slapped his shoulder.

‘Oh man, of course not, if you say so. We’re friends, aren’t we?’

Yooncheol glanced at him, then back at Hojoon. He tried to keep a straight face, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he, too, gave a heartfelt laugh, happy and embarrassed.

‘I made you worry, didn’t I?’

Jiho shrugged.

‘The next stop is ours,’ Yooncheol said casually, still smiling.

Jiho looked at Hojoon face, alit with a delighted smile, and his own grin faded. He remembered his and Sangdo’s exchange. Now _that_ was clearly not about fictional scenarios, and Jiho wondered what was wrong.

Hojoon caught his glance and turned away to the window.

* * *

The house wasn’t big, but it was looking down at them, or at least it so seemed to Jiho. It was almost dark already, and the lights in the windows were warm, but for some reason didn’t seem very inviting. They stopped by the low fence, and Yooncheol leaned onto Jiho for support. He was heavy, and Jiho suppressed a groan.

‘So, what I think we should do is that,’ Yooncheol said, throwing his hair back. ‘I will go and try to convince them to let Hansol out for a few minutes. You should stay somewhere in the dark, I will give you a sign when you need to come.

Jiho hemmed.

‘Okay, fine. Will you be able to stand on your own, and not raise any suspicions?’

Yooncheol nodded and pushed himself heavily off Jiho’s shoulder.

‘Sorry,’ he said sincerely, noticing as Jiho winced. ‘I won’t do that again. I’ll be just fine, I promise. You guys, wait somewhere near, alright? Watch me.’

And he smiled with the corners of his lips, straightening with effort. He opened the tiny gate, and walked into the yard shakily.

Jiho watched him with worry, and started when Hojoon tugged on his sleeve.

‘C’mon,’ he reminded. ‘We gotta stay away.’

Jiho nodded quickly and followed Hojoon a few metres down the road. From there, they would look like two guys having a casual talk, Jiho figured, as Hojoon stopped and looked intently over his shoulder.

‘Say something,’ he whispered, glancing to Jiho. ‘Play along!’

Jiho tried to look over his shoulder, turning his head, but Hojoon grabbed him and quickly set him in place.

‘Hush!’ he said, quietly and firmly. ‘ _I_ am the watcher.’

Jiho swallowed his worry, and it moved from his throat to settle in his gut.

‘S-so, how was your day?’ he mumbled, unsurely.

‘Pretty weird, actually,’ Hojoon dropped, sparing him another brief glance. ‘I found myself in a dumb impossible game set up by a _fan_ , and I’m still waiting for a sign that this is fake and a reality show. And I’m not getting any.’

‘I wish it was,’ Jiho said sincerely. ‘Can’t believe it was fun at the beginning.’

‘If you wanna know, the man at the door, who Yooncheol was talking to, has just disappeared,’ Hojoon said, looking quickly back at Jiho. ‘I think Hansol should appear soon. Yooncheolie himself is doing just fine, he isn’t even really shaking. Guess he gathered all of his strength, I hope he doesn’t pass out right after.’

Jiho sighed.

‘Yeah, hope so.’

Hojoon straightened slightly, knitting his eyebrows at something he saw behind Jiho’s back.

‘Oh man, someone went out. Is that…’

He didn’t finish. He grabbed Jiho by the upper arm and dragged him along, back towards the uninviting house.

Jiho had time to focus as his feet managed to keep up. He watched Yooncheol as he hugged the little figure that had walked out of the door. It was small and swarthy - it was definitely Hansol. He looked up at Yooncheol with a genuine smile, and said something. Yooncheol replied, and Hansol turned sharply to where Hojoon and Jiho were shuffling along the trail towards the door.

‘It’s alright,’ Jiho caught the words, as they were coming up to the house. ‘There is something we should tell you.’

Hansol drew his head into his shoulders. He looked like a hedgehog trying to turn into a ball of spikes, but he only had his soft golden skin, and it offered no protection. His glance brushed across Jiho and Hojoon’s faces, - a prickly, distrustful look. He looked down to the ground and crossed his arms on his chest.

‘It’s fine,’ Yooncheol reassured. ‘Can I ask you to do something?’

Hansol bit on his lower lip and hemmed.

‘You’re friends with Jiho now, huh?’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘Hansolie, please.’

‘You probably forgot how you bullied me, huh, Jiho?’ Hansol dropped darkly. ‘Forgot the words you said. I mean, you just played along, you never thought it would be of any pain whatsoever, huh?’

His intonations were barely Hansol’s. Jiho glanced helplessly to Hojoon. He had no idea what he was talking about. Hojoon met his gaze helplessly and shrugged in reply.

‘I’m gonna collapse soon,’ Yooncheol said, quietly, putting his hand on Hansol’s shoulder. ‘Please, do as I say. Look at Jiho, just look at him for a little while. You’ll know.’

Hansol jerked his shoulder and raised his face towards Yooncheol.

‘Why the fuck…’

Jiho didn’t listen on. His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out and answered, barely looking at who was calling.

‘Yes?’

‘Hey, Jiho!’ Sangdo’s smiling voice called from the speaker. ‘Look, I got great news. Sanggyunie has got out of traffic and will be here soon, and then we’ll grab him and head right off to the park. How are things with Hansol?’

Jiho scoffed.

‘ _Problematic,_ ’ he said, with pressure. Look, Sangdo, this is awesome news. You guys just go on and wait for us, okay?’

‘Wait for you _what for?’_ Hansol exclaimed, backing off and pricking up, ready to fight - or flee, if he had to.

Yooncheol gave a loud sigh. And then he did something unexpected. He took a wide, confident step at Hansol, scooped him up from behind, covering his mouth with his hand, and lifted him over the ground.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered softly, - and then he ran.

He ran with such speed he had never showed when he was feeling fine. Jiho barely had time to understand what he was doing as he caught himself running, too, grasping at Hojoon’s hand. Yooncheol sprinted on, his long legs flashing in the air, and he didn’t stumble, despite Hansol desperately trying to get free. There were no calls at their backs, no screams. There was no sound at all, except for their fast footfall, ragged breathing and Hansol's high-pitched meows. Yooncheol paid on attention. He took a turn, then another, and stopped as suddenly as he started running. It was dark and narrow where he stopped, and hot because of terror and sweat. A few quick moves – and Hansol was pressed against a high fence, Yooncheol still covering his mouth with his hand.

‘Come on,’ he glanced to Jiho. ‘Do it, I can’t take it for much longer.’ He sounded almost desperate. ‘We will have to flee. He must be able to help us.’

Jiho came up to them – two short steps. Hansol’s wild stare moved from Yooncheol to him. He wasn’t even pleading, all that filled his black eyes was terror. Tears were running down his cheeks, getting lost between Yooncheol’s fingers. Jiho swallowed.

‘Hansolie,’ he called, reassuringly. ‘Please, we need you.’

Yooncheol released him – jerked his hands away sharply and stumbled back, towards the other tall fence. Hansol gasped.

‘What’s going on?’ he mewled helplessly.

‘Do you remember the white room?’ Hojoon intruded. Hansol glanced to him, throwing his arms around himself.

‘I… do…’ he gave a little pained sound.

‘We have no time,’ Jiho reminded. ‘We kidnapped you and we have to flee. All the others are waiting for us.’

Hansol wiped his cheeks quickly. Something behind Jiho’s back got his attention, and he squinted, leaning to the side to look there.

‘What’s wrong with Yooncheolie?’ he asked, quietly and worriedly.

Jiho turned around right on time to see Yooncheol slowly sliding down the fence. He rushed towards him, and in a moment all three were holding Yooncheol straight.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Hansol exclaimed, shuffling under Yooncheol’s arm to push him up.

‘He hasn’t slept in, what, three days?’ Hojoon huffed from the other side. ‘If he passes out now, we’ll lose him.’

‘We gotta run,’ Jiho exhaled. ‘Yooncheol, man, listen to me!’

Yooncheol raised his head wearily and glanced to Jiho from under half-closed eyelids.

‘I… don’t know…’ he drawled.

‘We’re so close!’

Jiho grabbed him by the underarms and forced him to his feet. He was desperate, and Yooncheol must have felt hit. He opened his eyes with visible effort.

‘Listen to me,’ Jiho moved as close as he could to his face. ‘You’re gonna do your best, understood? You’ll stand up, we’ll help you. We’ll go and catch a bus. And only when we all meet up with the guys will you pass out. I don’t wanna lose you, you hear me? And nor do the guys.’

Yooncheol gave no reaction. Jiho gathered all his rage, raised his hand and slapped his cheek. Yooncheol’s head dangled to the side, and he blinked quickly, squinting sickly at Jiho. Jiho raised his other hand, and slapped the other cheek.  Now his strike met more resistance. Yooncheol raised his head and met Jiho’s stare.

‘Stay. Awake.’ Jiho ordered, knitting his eyebrows. Yooncheol took a loud breath and nodded.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Fine. I’m awake.’

‘How far is the park?’ Jiho asked, looking around, suddenly alert.

‘Which one?’ Hansol asked, squinting slightly.

‘The one which is two stops away from here,’ Hojoon replied, shaking Yooncheol slightly. ‘We better hurry. I’ve been here, and I think I know a sneaky way to the bus stop.’

* * *

Jiho and Hansol sat Yooncheol down onto the bench on the bus stop. It was empty, but that only made the four look around uneasily.

‘They will call the police,’ Hansol remarked quietly, sitting down beside Yooncheol and putting his arm softly around his waist. ‘I bet they already did. We are an easy target here.’

‘We should just stay together,’ Hojoon replied confidently, catching his breath, leaning onto the pole supporting the sunshade over the bench. ‘Explain to me, how possibly we can be suspects. Yooncheol showed up alone, and he’s Hansol’s… close friend.’

Yooncheol sent him a heavy glance, but Hojoon just shrugged.

 ‘They’re close, and if Hansol’s parents guess about the kidnapping, I doubt they will suspect Yooncheol.’

‘There comes the bus,’ Jiho informed, glancing to the left. He could see the shape of the bus through the bright shine of the headlights, and he squinted, praying for it to hurry.

‘There also comes something else,’ Hojoon remarked.

Jiho had already noticed it. The car passed the bus, and he saw a red and blue light on top of it.

His breath hitched. He glanced over his shoulder, feeling his heart fall deep, deep down, and noticed Hojoon push himself lightly away from the pole to come in front of Hansol and Yooncheol. The time slowed down, and in those long, long seconds Jiho played out the worst scenarios in his head. He gathered himself, preparing for the worst, for anything bad that could possibly happen.

The next moment, the police car swished past, not even slowing down, and then the bus pulled over, covering them. Jiho rushed to help Yooncheol rise, and they pushed into the bus all four, digging their pockets for money.

* * *

 

The seats were all taken. Yooncheol grasped at the handle, and Hansol strained to keep him standing. Hojoon touched the shoulder of a wide man sitting down right beside them.

‘Excuse me, would you mind letting this young man sit down? He’s really feeling bad.’

The man sent him a displeased glance and didn’t move. Jiho looked around helplessly. A few stared at them, the others kept looking out the windows or in front of themselves, their earphones blocking out the outer world.

‘Hojoonie, I’m fine,’ Yooncheol assured weakly, grasping at Hansol’s thin shoulder.

Hojoon hemmed and moved to a young girl behind the man. She pulled her earphones out and looked up at Hojoon.

‘Excuse me, miss, would you mind standing up? I’m awfully sorry, but this young man here is not feeling good…’

‘Hojoonie, really,’ Yooncheol tried again, but the girl rose and sent him a compassionate smile.

‘You look really pale,’ she said, softly. ‘Please, sit down.’

Hansol grabbed the back of the seat with his free hand, helped Yooncheol move over, and pushed him down, keeping him seated with a hand on his shoulder.

‘Thank you a lot, miss,’ he said with an awesome smile, and the girl reflected it.

‘Hojoonie, are you watching out for our stop?’ Jiho asked quietly.

Hojoon nodded, leaning down a bit to see through the window. Jiho looked over to Hansol.

In this universe, his manner of dressing remained. His wide sweatpants and oversized tee almost hid his little bony body, but the visible part of his arms gave him out. His features seemed even softer, even more childlike, and his gaze reminded even more of that of a deer. His small hand was resting on Yooncheol’s shoulder. Yooncheol looked up at Hansol. Hansol gazed back down at him and stroked him slightly. Yooncheol squinted at his hand and shook his head slightly. Hansol nodded and squeezed his shoulder instead, looking away. Jiho noticed how he pressed up his lips. Yooncheol’s stare wandered off to stop on the back of the head of the man in front of him.

He sighed. He expected his heart to be finally calm, but his thoughts kept returning to Sangdo and Hojoon. _It’s my fault, too. I should have noticed. I could have helped them fix it, whatever it is._

Wrong, he couldn’t have, and he knew it, but the thought nagged at the back of his head. He could have at least tried. He could have at least found out.

Byungjoo's bitter smile and uneasy, apologetic glances. Hansol pressed up lips.  _Something is going on between us, and only I don't know._

Wrong, he couldn't possinly be the only one. Cheerful Sanggyun, easy Sangwon - they couldn't have been let in on the goings-on.

‘Jiho.’

He turned to Hojoon’s voice.

‘We’re getting off soon.’

Jiho nodded and offered Yooncheol a hand to help him rise.

* * *

The park was a single dark massive with light pools inside of it. People were walking into the darkness, and in a few moments appeared in the visible spots of warm light inside. Hojoon ran forward, then returned, shrugging.

‘Don’t see them.’

Jiho gritted his teeth under Yooncheol's weight. _Just a little left._ He was heavy, and he was barely moving his feet.

Hansol stumbled, walking on Yooncheol’s left, and almost fell, making them all stop. Hojoon frowned.

‘Hansol, let go. I’ll help.’

Hansol shook his head stubbornly.

‘Nuh-uh.’

‘Jihoooo!’

A dark shape separated from the dark massive of the park, waving its arm over its head.

‘We’re here!’ Jiho replied, with a wide smile. In the figure he had already recognized Sehyuk.

‘Sehyukie?’ Hansol straightened with a smile.

‘Yep,’ Hojoon confirmed.

Sehyuk ran up to them and stopped. His face was alit with a wide smile.

‘We were worried for you,’ he said, looking at Yooncheol’s face and nodding back to his slight nod. ‘Hello there, Hansolie!’

‘How’s Sanggyun?’ Jiho asked, gladly accepted Sehyuk’s help and lifting Yooncheol’s arm from his own shoulder.

‘Fine,’ Sehyuk nodded, making Yooncheol lean on him, shifting his weight from Hansol’s slender frame. ‘He’s getting the hand of his crutches, he’s having fun.’

‘Glad to hear that,’ Jiho smiled. With Sehyuk’s help, they were moving much quicker. ‘Where are the guys?’

‘The-ere,’ Sehyuk waved his arm in the direction, and Jiho distinguished a bench in the pool of light and the people sitting on and standing around it. They were so dear in the warm light, he felt warmed up inside. He reached his hand into his pocket and found the sleeping pills.

‘Sangdo!’

Sangdo straightened and turned – Jiho noticed his shiny ears even from the distance. He smiled widely and happily and hurried towards the company approaching.

‘We have water there,’ Sehyuk remarked. 'We should take the pills at once, poor Yooncheolie won’t bear much longer.’

‘You had to see how Jiho brought him back around,’ Hojoon laughed.

‘Guys!’ Sangdo ran up to them, jumpy as a happy kid. ‘Hansolie!’

Hansol beamed back, still not releasing Yooncheol’s waist.

‘Feels like I haven’t seen you in my entire life,’ he said, cheekily.

The other guys on the bench started fidgeting as they approached. All stood up, and even Sanggyun tried to lift his butt, but Sangwon pushed him down.

Yooncheol wasn’t moving his feet any more. Sehyuk panted heavily under his weight. Sangdo grabbed Yooncheol’s limp body from the front and dragged him the last few metres, before dropping him onto the bench. Yooncheol slid down and remained unmoving.

‘Finally he got what he needed,’ Hojoon said softly, looking down at his relaxed body. ‘Jiho?’

Jiho was already shaking the pills out of the bottle.

‘Yeah, just a second. There you go, and you, and… you…’

Everyone took their dose, one by one, and slipped it into their mouths, passing a big bottle of water between themselves.

‘Now all we need is follow Yooncheol’s example,’ Sangwon said, with a slight smile, and lay down right onto the ground.

Hansol sat down onto the bench, stroked Yooncheol's hair absentmindedly, and leaned back, closing his eys. Jiho watched the others curl up or spread out around. Nobody cared, nobody thought them weird. They had fucked up this universe, but he couldn't care less. His gaze kept returning to Sangdo. Hojoon had fallen asleep almost immediately, his shirt a darker shade of green on the soft grass. Sangdo lay beside him, not touching him, giving his sleeping body a long guilty stare.

 _What’s wrong?.. –_ Jiho had time to think.

And then there was darkness.


	3. Sehyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sehyuk's bust here:  
> http://tom-failure.tumblr.com/post/163480803073/were-going-to-fight-hero-of-the-day-number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our minds were sharp, our bodies burning,  
> We gave ourseves over to learning.
> 
> Jason Webley – Ways to Love

 

_What’s wrong?_

_Wrong!_

_Wrong!_

_Wrong!_

_Wrong!_

_Wr-_

Sehyuk opened his eyes wide and stared into the whiteness overhead.

_Something is wrong, What’s wrong?_

The thought appeared out of nothing and didn’t let him sleep any more. It flashed like a red light in his head. Something was wrong, he remembered that it was. He blinked a couple of times at the ceiling, trying to figure out what could be wrong. Nothing immediately came to his mind.

He was slowly, slowly returning to his senses. He remembered the previous day – or was it even a day? - the previous universe. Remembered himself as the teacher. Remembered Jiho and the others, lost and confused, and not at all happy to be playing that ‘game’…

He sighed. It wasn’t a dream. He remembered the feel of the warm asphalt under his back – the last thing before the overwhelming blackness, much thicker than sleep.  He felt refreshed, but strange.

_So, I’m our next hero,_ he thought, squinting a little.  _Okay then._

He looked around, and finally felt his body in its entirety. He was lying on a narrow bed for one, his blanket tossed down to his feet. It was warm in the room, not too hot, not too cold, just fine against his naked skin. He was feeling good. He was feeling comfortable.

He couldn’t let the comfort lure him into lying down another minute. He had things to do. Sehyuk sat up and put his feet onto the floor. He expected it to be cold, and to wake him up, but it was warm. He shrugged.

_Who am I here?_

The thought itched in his left temple and he raised his hand to scratch. He blinked – and his eyes widened in surprise. A screen appeared in front of his eyes out of nowhere.

Sehyuk blinked again, rubbed his eyes, but the screen wouldn’t disappear. The sleepiness was gone in a moment. Sehyuk turned his head, and the screen stayed in front of his eyes. The projection was in his head, he realized, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes tight.  _So, I’m in the future,_ he thought.  _Jesus, just hope it isn’t too dystopian._

He brought his hand to his temple again and scratched unsurely. In another blink of an eye, the screen was gone. Sehyuk hemmed and stood up. He was facing a glass wall, and he came up to it and put his hand on the warm smooth surface.

The outer world was lit with the light of the morning. The sky was light blue, tiny clouds here and there. The window looked out onto huge glass skyscrapers of shining blues, browns and greens, and their roofs were hardly seen from Sehyuk’s level. Something was flying through the air high overhead,  more in order than birds would,  and the traffic in the air seemed quite busy. Sehyuk squinted, leaning onto the glass, trying to distinguish any details, but all he could see were smooth dark bottoms of big –  _air buses? -_ at least  that they looked  like  from below. Sehyuk looked down, expecting to see the city as he was used to it, but saw nothing. The skyscrapers were knee-deep in the rippling greens. From up there it looked like a jungle.

Sehyuk looked back up, at the traffic overhead, and swallowed hard.  _God forbid I have to fly one of these._

He turned away from the window and looked around his room. It was small, with a bed, a cabinet, an armchair, a huge dresser, and piles of junk here and there. Clothes were thrown haphazardly on the floor and on the armchair, some of them sparkling or metallic. Sehyuk grinned.  _Guess I’m a fashionist here._ He didn’t mind. He liked dressing well.

Nothing in the room spoke of any kind of a profession. It looked painfully like a room of an unemployed coxcomb spending all his money in vintage shops. Sehyuk bit his lower lip. At that moment, his left temple itched desperately. He rubbed it hard with his palm, and the screen appeared in front of his eyes again, flashing a bright obnoxious sign: ‘IT’S 8:15, YOU WILL GET YOUR ASS KICKED BY THE BOSS’.

‘Got it, got it!’ Sehyuk whispered loudly, rubbing his temple.

The sign blinked a couple more times and disappeared. In front of Sehyuk’s eyes was a desktop, vaguely reminding that of his computer, filled with weird icons.

_Now what?_ He reached his hand to touch the screen, and remembered, too late, that it was a projection. He  barely  distinguished his arms waving behind the screen.  _This must have some more advanced controls,_ Sehyuk thought.  _If nothing else, it should be voice operated._

‘Voice control,’ he said, unsurely.

**Voice control active,** a popup replied, appearing in the middle of the screen.

‘Oka-ay,’ Sehyuk drawled, watching it disappear. ‘Reminders?’

He said it randomly, the thought coming to his mind out of habit. He was used to leaving notes for himself.

**Wait a second…** said the popup.

_Is there anything else for me to do? -_ Sehyuk thought absently.

A window opened, the header clearly saying  **My Notes** . Sehyuk squinted.  _What’s the date?_

He looked down and to the right to check the date. Sure enough, there was a note for that day – the very first one.

‘Open note number one,’ Sehyuk said. The notification expanded, revealing a few timed reminders.

‘9:30 — _Last revisions of script!_

_18:00 – AMELIE!!!_ ’

Who Amelie was, Sehyuk had no idea, and he figured it wasn’t all that important. The script, however, grabbed his attention, mostly because there was not much more than an hour left until the supposed ‘revisions’, and he didn’t even know where he was supposed to go.

‘Search ‘script’,’ Sehyuk muttered, frowning.

The popup asked him to wait once again, before opening up a short list of results, stored in one folder and named neatly with titles and dates. All of them began with the words ‘Another Day’.

Sehyuk thanked himself for the habit of naming the files so that he could find them later on. He chose the most recent to open and ran through the text. The script was clearly written for some reality show.

‘Open browser,’ Sehyuk commanded. ‘Search ‘‘Another Day’ show’. Minimize.’

He said the last word for fun, but the screen did minimize, and stayed as a small rectangle in the  bottom right corner of his field of vision. Sehyuk looked around, came up to the armchair and rummaged through clothes piled up on it.  _I have to get dressed. I have to figure out what to do._

The time was ticking past.

‘Maximize,’ Sehyuk commanded, examining himself critically in the mirror. The screen expanded, hiding the slender figure of a Park Sehyuk dressed in a skirt over jeans – the most matte ones – and a dark sweatshirt. No matter how much he tried, Sehyuk looked like a coxcomb short on money – God knows how it even expressed in clothes, but it gave off the vibe. Sehyuk had always been neat, he had to admit, but now he looked desperately fashionable.

He looked through the results of the search. ‘Another Day’ had a Wikipedia page, the Free Encyclopaedia still alive and blooming in the year he was in. Sehyuk hemmed at that thought. He read on, and the further he was into the text the more his eyes widened. He stopped reading midsentence.

_I have to process this,_ \- he thought. -  _Goodness gracious._

He minimized his screen again, and wandered off to the two doors he had noticed, finding a small kitchen behind one of them. He rummaged through the fridge and around the drawers and shelves, and found himself a little quick breakfast. He sat down at the table, put his food down and ran his hands through his hair, gathering his thoughts together.

_What the fuck have I just read?_

The ‘Another Day’ show, as the article read, was a relatively new kind of entertainment, innovative in its field and already insanely popular. It started off three years before as a way for the terminally ill to spend their last days in a more exciting way. The people signed a contract, confirming their confidence in their decision, and ventured out on dangerous adventures, which ultimately resulted in their death. After a stunning success, the project authors, drowned in mail, renewed the show for the second season, and in the third season, sponsored by the Continental Government, they let in another type of players – those sentenced to death.

Sehyuk opened a couple of tabs to read more about the Continental Government and the death sentence he had been guessing would have been banned forever by the year he was in.  Busy with that, he  swallowed his breakfast quickly. He kept throwing his long hair back, as it got in his eyes. It was unusually strong, almost wiry, and Sehyuk felt a sting of regret. He missed his old, healthy hair, not spoiled by countless recolourings.

It wasn’t a problem to find the address of the show’s place of production. Google maps were still there, more detailed than usual.

‘Navigate from my location,’ Sehyuk commanded, and the path appeared on the map, joining the spot where he was and the office. There was the familiar option of going on foot, and beside it a strange icon Sehyuk couldn’t guess the meaning of. He tapped it, and the hint above the list of ways said: **Aerial**. Sehyuk swallowed bitter saliva, and that’s when another notification hid the screen from him.

‘HAVE YOU LEFT ALREADY?!!!’

Sehyuk’s temple itched desperately, but the notification was different, and Sehyuk squinted at it, wincing in an attempt to maintain composure.

On top of the notification, the line said: ‘Notification: Vehicle’. On the bottom there were two command buttons: one said ‘Navigate to vehicle’, and the other, ‘Dismiss’.

‘Navigate to vehicle,’ Sehyuk commanded. _Why do I even need this button? Do I usually get shitfaced here?.._

The navigator panel appeared in front of him.

* * *

Sehyuk pushed the door to the roof and walked out – and then he realized why he needed the option to navigate to his vehicle. The entire roof was a parking lot, it was enormous and packed with cars – or however they called them here.

As Sehyuk followed the directions, he examined the vehicles. They were all different – and all the same. S ome of them had two seats, and some had four, some had glass covers; but most were open, with only a seat for one, and were of different degree of shabbiness. The navigator led Sehyuk on through various turns, and finally signalled beside a small car. Sehyuk minimized the screen and examined it critically.

The vehicle was tiny and scratched. It was settled on massive padding, most of the cars in the lot were lower, and Sehyuk guessed his car was old. Behind the seat Sehyuk noticed something like a battered sunshine roof, folded not to get in the way. The car had tiny doors on each side and the padding had an indent for a foot. Sehyuk opened the door and climbed in to sit down.

In front of the seat was a panel with a screen. As soon as Sehyuk sat down, it lit up.

‘Place index finger in the circle,’ it said, and Sehyuk obeyed. A second – and the lock screen slid up, revealing a couple of smoothly designed command buttons. Sehyuk licked his lips. _Raise the roof, raise the windows, lock the doors, navigate… autopilot?!_

Hardly believing his luck, Sehyuk pressed the button.

‘ **Where do you want to go?’** the screen asked. Sehyuk entered the destination and watched as the vehicle processed his commands. ‘ **Fasten seat belt and press ‘start** _’,’_ the next popup informed. Sehyuk found the belt – the construction hadn’t changed in the years, - and fastened it around himself. Then, he pressed the button and waited.

The tiny machine vibrated slightly and rose into the air, shaking slightly with effort. Sehyuk’s teeth clanked, and he winced, clenching them harder. The car rose higher with little stops and shaking, and followed a straight course over the roof. Sehyuk looked down at the parking lot, then to the sides to other cars rising and following their own strange path each. They never flew even close to each other, and Sehyuk figured each car’s way out of the parking lot was strictly mapped, but he couldn’t think of how.

The roof was close down below, and still Sehyuk caught himself shaking. He looked down and felt the machine pick up speed. He grasped at the sides of the seat and tried to calm his breath. That moment, the parking lot beneath him ended abruptly, and the machine, passing a little further, stopped, like in an old cartoon, and suddenly started going down.

Sehyuk’s heart fell to the ground way before the machine could, and then leapt back to pound in his throat. He pressed into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. _The-ere I go, -_ flashed in his head. -  _And I haven’t found one person. I lost._

He bit onto his lower lip and held his breath.

_Please, please don’t let this hurt!_

The machine stopped its fall, shook itself, like a horse, and moved on along the horizontal line. Sehyuk dared open his eyes and look around. The car beeped, moved a little bit further down, and seamlessly joined the thick flow of small cars.

Sehyuk’s eyes widened in amazement. The aerial road had at least six lanes, but it was hard to tell from where he was. The cars were surrounding him from all sides, moving fast and smoothly. They were all tiny, for one person, and some of them had their windows and roofs raised, while the others had just roofs, or nothing at all. A soft murmur hung over the road, the even sound of the machines moving mixing with the voices of people talking. Sehyuk gathered his courage to peep over the door and down. He distinguished another road below, with bigger cars, and even lower huge aerial buses flowed, like whales.  The houses pierced the road here and there , and  as Sehyuk  looked down he realized he was too quick thinking them skyscrapers. They weren’t very tall, and they were completely made of glass. From this height it was hard to tell how much was hidden by the thick green jungle, but it was safe to guess it couldn’t be too much. The city was seemingly divided into three levels: ground level, covered in fresh greens, middle level, made of glass and filled with people, and the top level, where the cars were flying, following their invisible, but strictly defined paths, never straying from them. It was terrifying in its own way, and in its own way beautiful.

Sehyuk leaned over the screen on the panel and found the buttons raising the windows and the roof. As he found himself in a little box, he could finally take an easy breath. Now it was much easier to imagine that he was firmly on earth, or that the entire landscape was just a projection on the  bulletproof g lass. He maximized the screen and called for the user manual.  _If I have a free minute, why not put it to a good use?_

* * *

The car landed not without turbulence, notifying Sehyuk that he was about to reach his destination. He minimized the screen, and remarked, satisfied, that he was already getting a hang of controlling his screen with only his eye s mov ing . Some commands required little finger motions, and Sehyuk had had a little lime to practice the most important ones. He watched the machine land, rolled the windows  down  and folded the roof, unfastened the belt and got out. On the screen he noticed a little message as the machine locked automatically. Sehyuk was already liking this future.

The time was well past 9:30, it was much closer to ten o’clock, but Sehyuk was feeling weirdly adventurous, albeit a little trembly. He followed the arrows on the ground to find the way out of the parking lot, and enjoyed a little run between the cars. The door into the building had a lock with fingerprint recognition, and Sehyuk passed it without any delay. He ran down the first escalator, and then stopped, and looked around, wondering. He didn’t know this place. He had no idea where he had to go.

_Well, what does one do when one doesn’t know where to go? The quickest way is to ask somebody for directions…_

Except he was late, and he knew he would most probably get a scolding. Sehyuk shrank at the mere thought. Every time he was scolded or yelled at, all he could do was tremble and mumble. He had trouble standing up for himself even on the Internet, and every courageous step for his friends was backed with his shaking hands and clanking teeth. In real life, replying required live action, and Sehyuk was bad at it.

_There is no other way,_ \- he told himself, strictly.  _I need to do it for them. For my friends. For the guys. We need to go through this together. Am I a leader, or what?!_

He hated being the leader, he had to confess, but the thought of his friends gave him a little bit more courage. He ran off the second flight of stairs and took a deep breath before opening the door and walking into the corridor.

To his right was a wall made entirely of glass, and the bright sunlight was shining through, casting squares of pure gold onto the slippery floor. The corridor was empty, and his single louder footstep echoed against the walls, deafening him. Sehyuk stopped and froze, pricked up, waiting for the complete silence to establish. He couldn’t even hear his own breath. He looked around and ventured forward, quietly, his steps as light as ever.

His  sneakers creaked once or twice against the smooth surface, making him startle each time. Sehyuk didn’t like sudden loud noises, and in the surrounding silence any sound was thunderous. The doors to his left were thick and with no glass, fully soundproof. God knows what was going on behind them. Sehyuk passed that corridor quickly, reaching an elevator on the other side. The button beside its glass doors was flashing red, and Sehyuk decided it was a sign to wait. He didn’t have to wait much longer, though. The cabin of the elevator rose from below, carrying a hairless dark-skinned woman, whose eyes were moving rapidly along with her fingertips – she was focused on her invisible screen. As the elevator doors opened, she moved her chin to the side slightly, and only then did she notice Sehyuk.

As soon as she saw him, her expression changed dramatically. She took a step out of the elevator, and her raised contralto sounded loud in the silent corridor.

‘Park Sehyuk?!’

Sehyuk tried his best not to raise his shoulders protectively. He straightened and forced out a little shaky smile.

‘Yes, good morning...’

‘What are you doing here? Are you late again?! I thought we were done with this, Sehyuk!’

Sehyuk swallowed hard.  H e had to deal with  a raging boss , and he wasn’t liking it in the slightest.

‘We _are_ done with this, I promise,’ he said, as coaxingly as he could manage. ‘There was something wrong with my alarm, I’m _incredibly_ sorry.’

The woman scoffed.

‘The alarm? I’ve been telling you to change your chip to a newer version for months, but you prefer to spend money on hanging out with your friends. I’m sick of you, Sehyuk, you are slowing us down considerably!’

Sehyuk let out a shaky breath.

‘I know, I know they need me now for the last revisions. I mean – where are they today?’

The woman knitted her eyebrows even harder.

‘Are you serious now, Park Sehyuk?’ she said, quietly and menacingly. Sehyuk could almost feel the vibration of air around her.

‘I… I’m sorry,’ he said, forcing out a miserable smile. ‘I really did forget.’

The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, and then her expression slipped into a grin.

‘You know what? _Fine._ They’re right below us, room number 9-10. Go. I will be very surprised if tomorrow isn’t your last day here.’

And she pushed Sehyuk out of the way and proceeded down the corridor with wide, confident steps. Sehyuk followed her with his stare and swallowed hard. She looked like the epitome of power, her steps confidently breaking the silence and her shiny brown head reflecting the sunlight, and it took him a lot to turn away and look back at the elevator. He pressed the button, walked into the cabin on unbending legs – and only there his knees gave, and he leaned heavily onto the glass.

_God!_

He had to remind himself that he wouldn’t see tomorrow in this universe, but the woman had left quite an impression. Sehyuk took a deep breath, and then another, trying to convince himself he was fine.

_I can’t mean all that much here. I have a shabby car and an old chip model in my head. I don’t seem rich, how can I be all that important a person in the popular show?_

He reached out and pressed the second button from the top, shining the blue number nine. The elevator door closed and it started going down.

* * *

Sehyuk slipped out of the room and cast a longing glance over his shoulder. The glass door was transparent for a couple of seconds more, and then it turned to opaque and in a moment he could no longer see the few remaining in the room. He glanced around himself at the people flocking in the corridor. They were of all ages an ethnicities, and he couldn’t guess the gender of some if he tried.  Sehyuk smiled involuntarily at this colourful company. They looked awesome, and he was almost proud to be a part of them. From what he had gathered, they were all junior writers and apprentices. The few people who remained in the room said they were about to discuss ‘the main plot twist’, and no one, except those selected few, was allowed to hear that. Sehyuk was dying of curiosity, but could do nothing: the door was soundproof, and the glass turned opaque as soon as they went out.

The crowd was quickly dissolving, and Sehyuk reminded himself that he had to figure out what he had to do and search for his friends. Among the remaining people, who stopped to chat with each other, there were some of the friendliest faces, but Sehyuk had no idea how to address them. He had heard a few workers called by name during the discussion, and none of them seemed particularly inviting. One young man, Javier, had a refined face with a frozen expression of arrogancy, another one, Lila, was an older woman with a tired face and a clenched jaw, and a tall, skinny person of uncertain age and with pink frizz on their head was named Jo. The latter was nowhere to be seen, and Sehyuk looked around searching for the remaining two. He already knew he would much rather speak to Lila that to Javier.

He didn’t have to look long. Lila was standing, leaned onto the wall, just a few steps away from Sehyuk. Her eyes were closed, her eyebrows knitted, and her pose was strangely stiff. Sehyuk took a step at her, unsurely, and reached his hand out to tap her shoulder.

‘Li-la?..’

The woman opened her eyes sharply and squinted, trying to focus on Sehyuk. In a moment, her grey tired face alit with a sad smile.

‘Sehyukie! There you are. How are you doing?’

‘Uh – fine,’ Sehyuk tried, forcing out a little smile back. ‘Sorry for bothering you.’

‘No-no, it’s okay,’ she reassured, pushing herself lightly away from the wall. She was about half a head taller than Sehyuk. ‘I tend to zone out. Thank you for bringing me around.’

‘It’s okay. Look, Lila, do you know where the players are?’

The ‘players’, as they were named in their discussion, had been mentioned briefly. They were said to be ‘mostly terminal this time’ with almost disappointment in the voices.

Sehyuk realized, too late, that he had probably chosen the wrong person to ask. Lila looked out of touch, and Sehyuk cursed himself.

‘The players?’ Lila squinted, eyeing him down. ‘Poor souls, why in the world would you need them?’

‘I’m… curious,’ Sehyuk spat out, not really caring what he was saying. ‘Listen, Lila, I’m awfully sorry, I...’

‘They’re not in a zoo to feed your curiosity,’ Lila interrupted, knitting her eyebrows. ‘Leave them be. In this glass box they already feel caged, and they don’t need spectators.’

‘Of course they don’t, Sehyuk tried, but Lila’s eyes sparkled weirdly.

‘Poor ones,’ she said, suddenly softly. ‘Sometimes I wonder if what we’re doing is right… They’re given all the comfort they need, but what good is it if they know they’ll die?’

Sehyuk was silent, surprised. Lila looked down at him and sighed.

‘Maybe it’d be more fun for them if you talked to them a bit. There are so few left… poor doomed souls. They are living in expectation of their death. Talking to them might leave you grim, are you sure you want to go?’

Sehyuk nodded, trying not to look to enthusiastic. Lila wiped her eyes quickly and sniffed.

‘Fine. I’ll take you up there. The security guards know me. I spend a lot of time with the players...’

_This is probably why you look so grim yourself,_ Sehyuk thought, compassionately.

‘Why though?’ he asked, following Lila down the corridor. ‘Why would you want to spend so much time with them if you say they might leave you grim?’

Lila sighed and smiled.

‘I told you, but you probably forgot, Sehyukie. You don’t seem attentive. I get it, I’m boring, but you want to be polite...’

Sehyuk waited silently, feeling almost ashamed.

‘My son was a player last season,’ she justified, quietly, looking straight ahead. ‘I had brought him here, and I said my last goodbye to him here. The players’ mentality changes dramatically, you know? It’s so cynical, living in comfort and waiting for a cool and exciting death… they find joy in it, you know?’

She pressed the button on the wall and waited for the elevator to arrive. Sehyuk stared down, feeling suddenly weird and uneasy. Lila was silent for a while, too. They both stepped aside, letting a couple of girls walk out of the elevator, and then walked in. Lila pressed a button and the elevator started going down.

‘It’s macabre how they are so easy on their deathbed,’ Lila broke the silence finally. ‘They make bets on who’ll die next. They even play for some things they own, and after someone dies, someone else can take them. And they do take, even if for a couple of days. They become so possessive. They guard their joy with their teeth and nails. Not all of them, sure, but, well...’

Sehyuk took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

‘I… hope you aren’t mad at me for bringing this up,’ he muttered.

Lila gave a short, sincere laugh.

‘No-no, Sehyukie. It’s okay.’ She turned to him and smiled. ‘I need to heal. I need to work with that. I actually need a therapist, but I still can’t find spare time or money.’

Sehyuk reflected her smile. The elevator doors opened, and Lila invited him to come out. Sehyuk stepped into the corridor and stopped in amazement.

This floor was a jungle. Plants were everywhere, and something smelled sweetly and strongly. On their left glass doors led out into a huge open terrace. There were two people out there, sitting at the tables in the sun.

‘Excuse me?’

Sehyuk looked to the direction of the voice and saw a narrow, muscular man dressed in a soft skin-tight black suit – the guard. The man was walking right at him, and Sehyuk stepped away, when a voice, suddenly ringing clear, sounded from behind his back.

‘Chen?’

The guard’s face lit up.

‘Lila!’

‘Hello there.’

The guard smiled widely, looking over Sehyuk’s shoulder.

‘Are you done?’

‘Yes, we are, for now. Chen, this is Sehyukie. He wants to talk to the players. He’s one of our writers, and he wants to know these guys better. Do you mind?’

Lila came up to the guard and put her hand on his shoulder. Chen shot Sehyuk a distrustful glance.

‘Him? How do you know he doesn’t mean trouble?’

Lila smiled up at Chen.

‘Oh, I know him very well. He’s a nice boy, trustworthy. If he’s up to any trouble, I will take the blame.’

She glanced to Sehyuk with a grin and winked. Sehyuk smiled unsurely and bowed slightly:  _thank you_ . Lila shook her head:  _no problem._ Chen eyed them both head to toe.

‘Are you both plotting something? Lila, you know that if something happens, it’s gonna be _my_ problem...’

Lila put her hand over her heart.

‘Do you trust me?’

Chem frowned. Lila inclined her head to the side.

‘You have let _me_ in before. He’s as trustworthy as me. If he _wants_ to do something bad, he will be too terrified to do it. I know this boy. Just tell your guys that there’s a Park Sehyuk on this floor, and tell them to keep an eye on him. But I solemnly swear it will be alright.’

Chen sighed heavily.

‘Fine. And you will stay with me and wait for him.’

Lila nodded.

‘I brought him here, and I will take him away.’

Chen touched his right temple and moved his eyes a couple times.

‘I’m letting in Park Sehyuk. Stay on your places and keep an eye on him.’

Then he jerked his head to the side and invited Sehyuk in with a gesture. Sehyuk bowed slightly again and headed straight towards the terrace. He pushed the glass doors open and breathed in the fresh air.

The two people turned their heads lazily to him, and then looked away again. They were laid back in their comfortable chairs, and their faces were indistinguishable. Sehyuk clenched his fists for reassurance and covered the distance between them in quick, wide steps.

‘Hello?’

The two talking – the one’s head was barely covered with fizz, and the other one had a cap on – stopped their slow, soft conversation and turned to Sehyuk.

‘Yes?’ the one with the bare head said, and turned out to be a girl with sly dark eyes.

The other one gave Sehyuk a sickly look from under heavy eyelids, and Sehyuk had to look at him again to recognize. It was a skinny, pale guy with a frozen look of pain on his face, and it took Sehyuk a few seconds to realize the face was familiar.

‘Hojoonie?!’ he pulled a face, leaning in to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. The guy squinted for a moment and opened his mouth wide.

‘Sehyuk?!’

‘What’s wrong, do you guys know each other?’ the girl made her presence known.

‘Tanya, I hope you don’t mind,’ Hojoon said, softly, his voice trembling slightly.

‘Is that one of those friends that left you? Did he remember you all of a sudden?’

Hojoon sighed.

‘I will tell you later, alright?’

The girl hemmed and rose.

‘Fine. I’ll be waiting in my room. See you. Don’t be late for the doctor’s appointment. I want to see you live to the last round.’

Hojoon smiled weakly.

‘I sure will, sunshine. I promised.’

She nodded and left quickly, looking over her shoulder as she closed the glass door. Hojoon waved his hand to her and turned back to Sehyuk, inviting him to sit down with a little gesture. Sehyuk moved one of the chairs closer and took a seat, leaning forward to Hojoon.

‘Again I’m the first find, huh?’ Hojoon smiled, sitting back in his chair. His voice was more like a rustle, and Sehyuk had a hard time believing it was the same healthy and lively Hojoon that strutted around bossing everyone in sight. Back then, Sehyuk always thought him the _actual_ leader, the one he would trust in the times of trouble, but the guy before him was just a shadow of Hojoon he knew.

‘What’s wrong with you?..’

Hojoon dropped his head to his shoulder and closed his eyes. He was silent for a while and Sehyuk raised his hand to tap his leg, but Hojoon parted his lips with a little sound.

‘Hard to believe that, so much time after, we never really learned to cure cancer, right?’

Sehyuk swallowed hard.

‘Is… that what you have?..’

Hojoon reached his arm up heavily, took his cap off and put it on his knees, revealing a shiny head. Sans eyebrows, he looked much sadder. Sehyuk reached his hand out and put it on Hojoon’s knee. Hojoon put his hand over Sehyuk’s and squeezed it slightly.

‘I’m empty,’ he said quietly. ‘Not metaphorically, but literally. Pancreas cancer ate me out. They took out my stomach, and my lung, and my liver, most of it, and God knows what else. They replaced them, of course, but the substitutes fail, one after the other. Half of my brain is a substitute, the other is metastases – or, like, so it feels. I’m a shell of a person, Sehyukie. What you see is what’s left. I barely function. Poor Tanya refuses to believe I might die before I enter the arena.’

‘But you promised her to live,’ Sehyuk reminded, softly, taking Hojoon’s hand in his both.

‘I did,’ Hojoon nodded with a little smile. ‘She’s such a sweet little girl. She shaved her head to be more like me, so I don’t feel left out, isn’t she a cutie?’

‘Why is she herself here?’ Sehyuk raised his eyebrows.

Hojoon smiled wider.

‘Can you guess?’

Sehyuk shrugged.

‘AIDS? Another type of cancer? I don’ know.’

‘Back in her home country, she murdered her entire family,’ Hojoon said softly.

Sehyuk raised his eyebrows.

‘Yeah, could you believe it?’ Hojoon shrugged, putting his other hand over Sehyuk’s. ‘Her aunt lives here, and she offered her for a player. She has some connections, so Tanya got here in the first place.’

‘Wh- why did she murder them?’

‘She wouldn’t tell me.’

Sehyuk squeezed Hojoon’s hands.

‘Hojoonie.’

‘Hm?’

‘Look at me.’

Hojoon opened his eyes and looked Sehyuk in the face.

‘Can you promise me, too, that you’ll live? Until we all gather together. After that, die all you want, alright?’

Hojoon gave a short laugh, and then grew suddenly serious.

‘I promise, Sehyukie,’ he said, firmly.

Sehyuk smiled slightly at him, and Hojoon mirrored it.

‘I just want to be myself again,’ he said. ‘It hurts to be empty.’

Sehyuk let go of his hand and pointed his finger at him.

‘You promised!’

‘I always keep my promises,’ Hojoon replied faintly.

Sehyuk put his hands on the chair’s arms to rise, but remembered.

‘Have you, uh, seen any others? By any chance.’

Hojoon looked away, recalling.

‘I think one of the remaining criminals is Byungjoo. And… I’m not completely sure, but I think another one is Sangwon. That might be a lookalike, though. Among doctors there are none, and none among the people I have contact with. And those are very few.’

Sehyuk nodded, rising. Hojoon frowned and rubbed his forehead, still looking away.

‘I also think that I’ve seen Hansol… I think he’s our, how to say it, coach. He mostly works with the criminals, and I skip meetings with him because of the doctors’ appointments. If this could be of any use to you.’

‘Thank you,’ Sehyuk said, wholeheartedly. ‘Will you be okay? When do you need to see the doctor?’

Hojoon smiled softly and made a strange motion with his fingers. His body rose limply from his chair and remained hanging in the air, upright, half a metre above the ground.

‘A little plus of being me,’ he said, and narrowed his eyes with a little smirk, and for a second Sehyuk glimpsed the Hojoon that he remembered. He felt tight in the throat and looked away. A light hand touched his shoulder.

‘Don’t you dare, Sehyukie,’ Hojoon said, softly.

Sehyuk lifted his  gaze and sniffed, fighting back the wetness in his eyes.

‘You have to be strong,’ Hojoon insisted, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

Sehyuk clenched his jaw, expecting something like ‘you’re the leader’. Hojoon took a breath and exhaled slowly, loudly.

‘You have to be strong for _us –_ and we all have to be. For us. For us all. There are seven more out there, their memories are waiting to be woken. A day is not really long, is it?’

Sehyuk sighed.

‘It isn’t,’ he agreed quietly.

Hojoon tapped his shoulder goodbye  and moved on past him , when Sehyuk suddenly remembered another thing.

‘Hojoonie!’

He turned around to face him, and Hojoon moved his fingers to turn, too.

‘Huh?’

‘What’s between you and Sangdo?’

Hojoon knitted his  nonexistent  eyebrows – a little fold appeared over his nose .

‘Nothing. I’m okay. About Sangdo, you can ask him when you fetch him. Good luck, Sehyukie.’

He moved his fingers again and floated away, following a straight line, just like the cars outside.

‘Hojoonie!’ Sehyuk called again, not expecting an answer. But Hojoon stopped again, not turning, waiting. Sehyuk took a few steps forward not to shout.

‘Where do Byungjoo and Sangwon live?’

Hojoon sighed, but when Sehyuk stepped in front of him to peek into his face, he was smiling, slightly but smugly, and it was the real Hojoon, and Sehyuk felt better.

* * *

By the door, Sehyuk stopped and took a deep breath. He was unsure whom he might see there, and he didn’t know what to do if the guy inside turned out to be someone else than Byungjoo. He had to gather all his courage to raise his hand and knock.

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

Three periods in his brain. He took a step back just in case , and waited in silence. The door opened to the inside, and in the crack appeared a face, sleepy and clearly not happy to see anyone.

‘Huh?’

‘Byungjoo?’

Byungjoo squinted hard, trying to focus on the face.

‘It’s me, Sehyuk.’

Byungjoo shook his head, and his eyes opened wide. He reached out, grabbed Sehyuk’s arm and dragged him in the room, slammed the door shut, and stepped back. He rubbed his eyes ferociously, and only then did he raise his head and look back at him.

He was thin, slender as he usually was, muscular and radiating strength. His ruffled hair was dyed bright magenta, and his left arm was entirely covered in tattoos, and there were more visible from under his white tank top. His eyes, encircled with purplish blue, sparkled weirdly as he took his hands away from his face.

‘Sehyukie...’

Sehyuk inclined his head to the side and smiled softly – and the next moment found Byungjoo on his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

‘Oh goodness, Joo,’ Sehyuk whispered, surprised, and pressed him close. He felt suddenly vulnerable, and he partially liked the feel, but it made him uneasy.

‘I missed… you… I needed you so badly...’ Byungjoo managed, burying his face on Sehyuk’s shoulder.

_You couldn’t have missed me. You didn’t know I exist._

Sehyuk stroked his back and bit his lower lip. He always saw the child inside Byungjoo’s manly body. He never hid that child, but Sehyuk paid attention to that side of Byungjoo more than anyone, it seemed, and he found it extremely endearing. Most of all he wanted that child of a man and man of a child to be happy. That was all he wished for him, really.

‘Byungjoo,’ he tried, softly pushing him away to look into his face, but Byungjoo grasped at his sweatshirt and wouldn’t move. ‘What’s wrong?’ Sehyuk tried again, accepting the resistance. 

‘This universe is entirely wrong,’ Byungjoo sobbed quietly, freezing, his face still pressed into Sehyuk’s shoulder. ‘I’m so glad to see you. So glad...’

‘Hey, hey-hey-hey.’ Sehyuk tapped his back. ‘Enough, enough, please. Better explain to me what is it. Come, sit down,’ he looked around, ‘there, on the bed, and calm down. I’ll bring you napkins, deal?’

Byungjoo moved away slowly, turning his face to the side and wiping his eyes and his nose with his hands.

‘Oh, come on, come on, this is dirty,’ Sehyuk hurried, grabbing his wrists and moving them away. ‘Where do you keep the napkins? I’ll bring you, alright?’

‘I’ll take them,’ Byungjoo dropped. He headed for the table, grabbed a few napkins from the carton on it and blew his nose loudly. Sehyuk watched him with a pained expression. He hated watching him cry.

Byungjoo threw the wet napkins onto the table and sat down onto the bed, dropping his head and resting his elbows on his knees. Sehyuk came up quickly and sat down beside him. Byungjoo raised his head slightly to glance up at him. Sehyuk put his hand on his back, not knowing what better to do.

‘He-ey… what’s wrong? What happened in this universe?’

Byungjoo gave a short laugh.

‘I’m a criminal, you know?’

‘Yes. I know,’ Sehyuk said, stroking his back softly. ‘Hojoonie told me.’

‘You talked to Hojoon?’ Byungjoo raised his head, hope in his eyes. ‘Have you also seen Sangwonie?’

Sehyuk shook his head.

‘No. I thought you’d help me find him. I’m lucky to have found three of you guys here.’

Byungjoo raised his eyebrows in a look of pain.

‘Oh…’

He gave a deep sigh, looking away. Sehyuk frowned.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I just hoped that Sangwon was already fetched. Him and I… we...’

‘Are you enemies, again, like it was in the previous universe?..’

Byungjoo shook his head heavily.

‘No-no. There’s no really such a thing. More like, he’s afraid of me.’

Sehyuk sighed in response and give him a little push in the ribs.

‘Come on. It’ll be fine. He’s not afraid of you in reality, right?’

Byungjoo shook his head firmly.

‘God forbid. We’re fine, I promise. I just don’t get it, why do I always have to be the bad guy? Why me, Sehyukie? Do you know what I did? Do you know why I’m here?’

Sehyuk raised his hands in a gesture of giving up.

‘No. I don’t. Tell me.’

‘I’ve been a mass murderer even before the ban on death sentence was lifted,’ Byungjoo dropped his hands helplessly onto the bed. ‘Where have I sinned so much? I hate being this!’

Sehyuk drew him in, and Byungjoo rested his head on his shoulder, nestling into him, giving a ragged exhale.

‘Come on, this is not for real,’ Sehyuk coaxed, stroking his shoulder. ‘We have to get our shit together and work our way out of here. I already fetched Hojoonie, and you, and then I’ll find Sangwonie, and there’s also Hansolie somewhere around. He works here and he will sure help me. We’ll figure out what to do.’

Byungjoo sighed.

‘I hope I don’t die before we can.’

Sehyuk huffed in annoyance, turning away – and immediately regretted it.

‘Don’t you dare,’ he said, firmly. ‘Don’t say that. Why do _I_ have to tell _you guys_ to keep your chins up?’

Byungjoo hemmed a little. It was always the other way around, and everyone had long accepted it fine. Byungjoo was the one bringing optimism into serious Sehyuk’s life. He was bratty, shameless and loud, and that was what Sehyuk loved so much about him. Sehyuk didn’t hate his annoying yelling, his complaints and his childlike habits – he cherished them and they never failed to make him smile. In fact, Byungjoo himself never failed to make him smile, just by being there.

Byungjoo sensed it. He raised his head and looked into Sehyuk’s eyes, trying his best to manage a little unconvincing grin.

‘Okay, fine. I’ll be alright. I promise.’

Sehyuk gave a short laugh.

‘Oh, I hope I don’t just spend my day running around collecting promises. I already have one.’

‘Trust me,’ Byungjoo said, a little more seriously than he intended.

Sehyuk looked at him again, and only now did he notice the scars, covered by colourful tattoos, the thin and lifeless hair hanging down, the grayish skin , stretched across muscles and bones. Byungjoo had been to prison, he realized, and God knows what he’d been through.

He left the room with a pungent sense of guilt nagging at his throat.

* * *

Sangwon’s room was on the other end of the corridor. It was darkened now, some building casting a shadow on that side. Maybe they did it on purpose, Sehyuk thought, putting the criminals as far away from each other as they possibly could, pulling them further apart for their own sake… no, not for their own, he realized, for the others. For the show.

_I don’t want this future._

He knocked on the door, more confidently this time. No one answered. He waited for a while more, then knocked again. No answer followed. Sehyuk frowned and looked around.

The terrace was empty, safe for one lonely figure, its long hair lapping in the soft wind. By the shape of the body, resembling that of a pear, Sehyuk guessed that it was a woman, and most certainly not Sangwon.

‘Looking for me?’

The voice took Sehyuk by surprise, and he raised his head sharply, turning to the source. The man approaching eyed him head to toe, squinting slightly, curiously.

‘Who are you?’

Sangwon. Sehyuk realized at once it was him. Slightly broader than he was used to, his face round as ever, Sangwon had a straight back and a challenging look.

‘Um…’ Sehyuk only managed, but that was enough. Sangwon’s face lit up and he rushed to hug Sehyuk quickly and tightly.

‘Oh wow, what a hero!’ he said, smiling, moving away. ‘So glad to see you here.’

Sehyuk nodded, reflecting his smile unsurely.

‘Yeah. Me too.’

‘Wanna come in?’ Sangwon opened the door and laughed briefly.

‘Would love to,’ Sehyuk replied, livelier, coming in, invited by Sangwon’s gesture. Sangwon followed suit, and closed the door behind his back.

The room was as messy as Byungjoo’s, and, being much less concerned now, Sehyuk couldn’t help but notice it. He was neat, and he couldn’t stand the mess, but not all of his friends shared his views.

Sangwon caught his stare and gave a little apologetic smile.

‘Sorry for the mess. I don’t really have any wish to clean up here. And there are more things here than I know where to put.’

Sehyuk already noticed the piles of colourful junk, mostly pink, thrown in the corners.  _They become so possessive, -_ Lila’s voice sounded in his head, and he wondered about the time.

‘What do you need this all for?’

Sangwon shrugged.

‘My criminal self holds on to these things, as he has nothing else to hold on to. He has nothing of his own, and he wants to feel the joy of possessing at least in his last moments.’ He sighed, looking down. ‘I don’t want to die.’

‘No one really does,’ Sehyuk remarked. He had spotted a chair amongst the mess, and, swiping off the pile of clothes resting on the seat, - _this can’t become any messier, -_ put his skinny bottom on it instead. Sangwon nodded in approval. He went up to the bed and sat onto the soft blanket.

‘I’d say Hojoon here looks like he very much wants to die.’

‘If you were him, you’d want, too,’ Sehyuk sighed.

‘So you met him. Yeah, I know,’ Sangwon waved his hand in the air. ‘Pancreatic cancer. Sure thing. But I know the writers will keep him alive till the end of the season. Exactly because he suffers. The audience likes watching us suffer. It reminds them of their own safety in their little world where they follow the rules they think will keep them alive.’

Sehyuk frowned.

‘Hey, I don’t really want this existential banter, Sangwonie,’ he tried, softly. ‘I need to hurry. I need to find the others. I thought maybe you might -’

‘I wouldn’t call this ‘existential banter’,’ Sangwon remarked, pulling a little face. ‘But as you say. I remember my life in this universe, just as I do my life in the previous one. They’re all kind of alike, Sehyukie. And I’d say they somewhat reflect what I have inside.’

Sehyuk opened his mouth in sudden realization.

‘...Byungjoo?’

Sangwon glanced to him, his face a look of sheer disbelief.

‘What?! No! Of course not. This is so random, it’s disgusting. I don’t hate him. And I wouldn’t fight him, God forbid. He’s a cool guy, you know I love him.’ He sighed, looking away. ‘I was saying that, just maybe, our roles reflect what burns inside of us. Extremely exaggerated, distorted, but deeply ours?..’ He grinned and sighed. ‘Of course, after only being fetched for the second time, it’s hard to tell, and it must be even harder for you, as you only have memories of one role, huh?’

Sehyuk looked away, silent, stunned. He remembered Sangdo and Hojoon, standing in the university corridor, a few steps away from each other, miles away. ‘ _I_ _haven’t abandoned you. I never meant to’. ‘_ _We used to hang out,’_ Hojoon  had  said. In that universe, they used to hang out, until Sangdo got too busy to have any time for his friend.

‘You… actually might be right,’ he said, quietly. ‘I may not remember my life in this universe, but I’ve… seen certain things. Sorry.’

He raised his gaze to Sangwon. Sangwon frowned.

‘Is… everyone alright?’

Sehyuk pressed up his lips.  _Does he really need to know? Ignorance is bliss…_

‘Don’t even think of backing off now,’ Sangwon interrupted his train of thoughts, sharply. ‘You said you’ve seen things. What things have you seen?’

Sehyuk sighed. He had to choose words carefully, but his worried mind refused to obey.

‘Have you noticed the… um… tension between Hojoon and Sangdo?’

Sangwon knitted his eyebrows, looking away.

‘The tension?.. Now that you mention it, maybe I did. What happened between these two?’

Sehyuk huffed.

‘Fucked if I know.’

‘How did _you_ find out?’ Sangwon glanced down to him.

Sehyuk’s stare w a ndered along the piles of junk scattered around the room.

‘Well, in the university universe, Hojoon was the one who knew pretty much everybody. He was the head of the council, and he helped a lot in finding the guys, from what I’ve gathered. But when he got to talking to Sangdo, I realized he was… uh… uneasy? He looked so sad. I have no idea what happened between them. Sangdo told him he hadn’t abandoned him, and Hojoon said they both needed time. This is kind of random, and I don’t know where to put it, but Hojoon doesn’t look very willing to talk to Sangdo, and Sangdo looks pained, to say the least.’

Sangwon gave a short laugh.

‘Sangdo?! No way! I can’t imagine him ever doing anything wrong, _especially_ abandoning, _especially_ Hojoon. He has such a soft spot for him, and he’s a total saint. Lawful good, that is.’

Sehyuk shrugged.  _Do you think I can put my head around it?_ \- he said in side . Aloud, he said:

‘Well, that much is true, but it’s nevertheless what I’ve noticed. Hojoon wouldn’t tell me anything.’

Sangwon’s grin fell quickly, and he let out a breath of air, thoughtful.

‘If I knew what to do for them to make up, I’d do that,’ Sehyuk broke the silence, softly and sincerely.

Sangwon glanced to him.

‘As much as you want to, don’t try. You’ll only ruin everything.’

‘I don’t think I can make it worse,’ Sehyuk laughed, but Sangwon knitter his eyebrows.

‘Look, I’m serious. Don’t do that. I know you, and you have all the best intentions, but trust me. It’s no good to _make_ people make up.’

_What do you know? -_ Sehyuk said in his head, and aloud, he said:

‘Okay, fine.’

It came out a little sharper than he intended, but he  couldn’t help but get  suddenly annoyed. Sangwon shook his head.

‘Anyway, I have to go look for the others,’ Sehyuk remarked, standing up. ‘Do you happen to know where Hansol might be?’

Sangwon shrugged.

‘No. There’s no particular schedule here, we just don’t go out of here so he can come whenever he has something useful to say.’

Sehyuk nodded.

‘Okay then. I’ll find a way to get him, or anyone else, if I can.’

‘Sehyuk.’

He turned at the door, looking back and meeting a challenging stare.

‘Good luck,’ Sangwon said, sincerely, and Sehyuk tried to shush the guilt raising from his chest. He managed a smile.

‘You too,’ he said.

And as he opened the door, he ran straight into Lila.

He had to step out hastily, closing the door as if she could have heard their conversation. Lila backed off a little, giving him space and examining him carefully, seemingly not noticing his fidgety motions.

‘Was it an interesting experience?’ she asked, curiously. ‘No, I know it was, let’s put it like this: was it _useful?_ ’

‘Yes!’ Sehyuk said wholeheartedly. _You don’t even know how really useful it was._

Lila nodded, satisfied.

‘We have to run,’ she remarked. ‘You must have forgotten about the brainstorm today.’

‘What?!’

Sehyuk had dropped all the care, and he caught his tongue when the word had already slipped. Lila sighed.

‘Oh, just as I thought. You’re so-o forgetful. Anyway, let’s go.’

She turned and headed off, and Sehyuk figured it best to follow. Chen beside the elevator sent his back a heavy glance, and Sehyuk caught it and shivered.

In the elevator, he took a moment to collect himself. He had to maintain composure, but it suddenly got incredibly hard. He almost felt Lila’s stare scanning him up and down, and he desperately expected anything, anything…

The best defense was to attack.

‘Lila.’

‘Hm?’

Lila turned her head to look at him, her eyes calm as ever.

‘Do you know the coach of these guys?’

Lila looked away thoughtful.

‘Coach… well, this is a curious way to call him, but I know the players call him that. He’s their curator, if we mean the same person. The name is Kim Hansol.’

Sehyuk thought he heard the singing of the angels.

‘Probably him,’ he dropped casually. His body improvised before his brain realized, but he was partially grateful for that.

‘He’s really the person who understands them,’ Lila said, looking away. ‘I wish I knew him better. But he has free visiting right, and he only comes when he has to, and I can never catch him to talk more. I’m sure he has a lot to say about them.’

Sehyuk pressed up his lips.

‘Uh… I see.’

The elevator doors slid open, and Lila walked out.

‘I’m going to miss him again today,’ she continued, as if not hearing. ‘He’s going to come about when the obligatory part of the brainstorming session ends, but I need to run about then. And then God knows when I’ll have the chance again. I’ve heard that this episode’s plot twist is meant to be a sensation. I have a bad feeling about it.’

‘Like what?’ Sehyuk asked, carefully.

‘They might just kill everybody off for fun,’ Lila said, crossing her arms on her chest. ‘I know the senior writers. I know what they’re like and what kind of entertainment they’re into.’

‘You seem to know everyone here...’

Lila gave a little bitter smile.

‘I told you why I’m here in the first place, Sehyuk.’

They stopped in front of a door cracked open. There were nobody in the corridor here.

‘Why are _you_ here?’

She sent him a curious, piercing glance, and, before he could open his mouth, or even begin to think, she opened the door wide and went in, leaving him to untangle the ball of intestine he felt was pulsing in his throat.

* * *

The existence of the obligatory part meant that there was also a part only for volunteers. They were especially reminded that the best volunteers eventually get a raise, and almost everyone stayed. Sehyuk fled as fast as he could. He already knew where he had to go.  
He hurried the elevator, tapping the glass walls uneasily. He was ready to run as he stepped out, but just on time he notices a tall black figure parting from the wall.

‘Park Sehyuk again?’

_Chen. I forgot._

He took a deep breath and smiled up at the guard.

‘Yes, me. I’m back.’

‘What this time?’

Chen’s face remained stern. He was determined to have none of the bullshit, and Sehyuk realized it very clearly.

‘Lila… couldn’t come with me this time, but she kindly asked me to ask Kim Hansol a few questions. She told me you would let me in.’

The lie was born unexpectedly, and it was brilliant.

‘Lila?’

Chen squinted, clearly not ready to believe at once,

‘Yeah. She had to run in business, and she wanted to talk to Kim Hansol. She asked me to talk to him for her, as she doesn’t know when she’ll be able to talk to him. Well, you know, no schedule and all...’

Chen squinted a little.

‘Well, I _do_ know she wanted to see Kim Hansol… wouldn’t have thought she’d send someone like you?’

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Sehyuk asked, sincerely.

Chen pulled a face and stepped aside.

‘Go on. He’s about to be here in a minute.’

‘Could you please tell him I’m waiting on the terrace?’

Chen huffed.

‘Fine. Go.’

He touched his temple to gave the other guards a warning.  Sehyuk thanked him briefly and hurried to the terrace not to take any longer.

He sat  down  at a table close to the glass wall, so as to see what’s going on inside.  He had a little time to think, and his thoughts turned to Sangwon and Byungjoo instead of Hojoon and Sangdo. Sehyuk felt he was angry at Sangwon, and he couldn’t calm himself down.

_That guy, who does he think he is?! Just sitting there bossing me around like no big deal, giving me a fucking psychological analysis! I never asked you for advice, you fuck!_

He bit his lower lip. He didn’t even want to tame his anger, and somewhere at the back of his head he did realize it was pointless and out-of-the-blue. But he couldn’t tell his heart what to feel, so he tried to focus on the window to tame the furious trembling in his knees.

The glass was reflecting light, and it was hard to see anything inside , but Sehyuk could still distinguish the motion – or at least he convinced himself so. Still the door opening took him by surprise. A short, nicely built figure, clad in a stylish grey dress of a rather futuristic look, entered the terrace and headed towards Sehyuk upon noticing him.

He had to admit Hansol looked nice, albeit unusually for Sehyuk’s eye. He didn’t have any jeans underneath his dress, and Sehyuk could see a bit of his legs, until they hid again in heavy Martens. He had a busy look on his face, but he seemed refreshed, if a little winded.

‘Hello? I was told you were waiting for me here.’

He looked Sehyuk straight in the eye. Sehyuk smiled a bit.

‘Yup. I am.’

Hansol’s eyes widened, his jaw fell, but  he looked surprised just for a moment more. He laughed, and sat down onto a chair on the opposite side of the table, leaning over towards Sehyuk.

‘Oh my God!’ he could only say, his smile wide.

Sehyuk inclined his head to the side.

‘I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to meet you.’

‘It’s pretty difficult to catch me here, I know,’ Hansol gave a tiny grin. ‘How did you do it?’

‘I have a coworker who really wants to meet you,’ Sehyuk shrugged. ‘In general, I improvised.’

Hansol laughed.

‘Oh good. Anyway we’re here now. Have you fetched any others yet?’

‘Yeah, I did. Hojoon, Sangwon and Byungjoo.’

‘So our players.’

‘Yes.’

Hansol blew out a loud breath.

‘Fi-ine. So you already have four.’

‘Yes. And I have no idea how to gather all of you in the same room,’ Sehyuk confessed, sighing.

‘So you’ve already found out who the others are?’

Sehyuk shook his head.

‘None among the writers, and the guys couldn’t tell me of anyone.’

Hansol smiled.

‘Guess I will be of a little more help.’

Sehyuk glanced to him, cracking a smile back.

‘I was hoping so.’

‘I think you have to already know that the players get killed as the game goes.’

Sehyuk nodded.

‘I figured that much.’

‘Do you know where the bodies go?’

Sehyuk shivered. Hansol looked down.

‘Well, this is the rule of this universe, I can do nothing about it. There are such people as corpse recyclers. Under the field – the stage where the game takes place – there’s their recycling factory. There are multiple doors leading up to the field, and every time somebody dies, someone goes up through the door closest to the corpse and takes it away. Well, if there’s anything left to recycle.’

A heavy silence established. Sehyuk decided to break it first:

‘So what I need to do is ask the corpse recyclers to help?’

Hansol nodded.

‘Exactly. And I know the exact one you should ask.’

‘Who?’ Sehyuk straightened.

‘Sanggyunie.’

Sehyuk couldn’t help but smile.

‘Oh, this is good.’

‘Not too much, he’s one of the most brutal ones,’ Hansol remarked. ‘Their profession requires a special kind of attitude. So they’re all pretty cynical, but he’s from those I’d really call brutal.’

Sehyuk pressed up his lips.

‘But fetching is quick,’ he mumbled. Hansol looked at him and nodded reassuringly.

‘Yeah. It is. We’ll be fine. The episode is coming on air today, and I know they’re terribly late with everything, so we’ll probably be able to fetch everyone in the mess. We just need to plan in advance. Sangdo is the main field technician, and we’re friends. Yooncheolie is his bodyguard, so we’ll get two at once.’

Sehyuk scoffed.

‘Yooncheol? Bodyguard? Are you serious?’

Hansol nodded, pressing up his lips.

‘In this universe, he is a master of martial arts, if that’s what you mean.’

He looked almost personally offended. Sehyuk raised his hands in a gesture of giving up.

‘Okay. I didn’t know. I mean, he’s just so… um...’

What did he want to say? Lanky?  _Slow?_ Yooncheol was pretty asthenic, and Sehyuk hadn’t really ever thought of him as  _strong –_ but not only because of the body. That just wasn’t the word he associated with Yooncheol. Long and narrow, flat-chested and slender-fingered, and most of all usually disturbingly phlegmatic, Yooncheol didn’t associate in Sehyuk’s mind with strength, and he was a little taken aback. Having Sangwon’s words about their roles in the game and their life ringing in his head, he found it suddenly hard to believe.

‘What?’ Hansol broke the silence. Sehyuk looked down under his piercing stare.

‘Let’s leave it. I really don’t mean to offend anyone, I just didn’t expect.’

Hansol shrugged.

‘Anyway. I have to instruct the guys, and then we will go get Sangdo, alright?’

Sehyuk nodded.

‘Do I have to wait right here?’

Hansol shrugged.

‘Do.’

He smiled, and left, his skirt flapping behind him and revealing his strong legs,  making Sehyuk admire him against his will .

* * *

The wait got long. Sehyuk was finally really getting a hang of using his chip, or however the device implanted in his head was called. A tap on the shoulder took him by surprise, and he reached his hand up to his temple quickly and turned around.

‘Sehyukie, I’m ready to go.’

Hansol smiled at him. Sehyuk nodded.

‘You lead, I don’t know where to find Sangdo.’

Hansol invited him with a gesture and Sehyuk  stood up to follow. They went on silent past Chen, who eyed Sehyuk suspiciously, and walked into the glass cabin of the elevator. Hansol pressed the button, and the door closed in front of them.

‘I took a moment to talk to the guys, you know,’ Hansol informed. ‘They don’t look too happy. I mean, they tried to be nice and welcoming, but I can see there’s something.’

Sehyuk pressed up his lips, looking away.

‘Do you know what’s wrong with them?’ Hansol insisted, softly but stubbornly. ‘You’ve talked to them before, you probably asked. You always care.’

That was half true, and half sweet flattery to get Sehyuk to talk. He sighed.

‘Well, Byungjoo is worried because he’s again a bad person. He’s a mass murderer here, and in the previous universe, he was a bully.’

‘Oh...’ Hansol looked down. ‘I understand…’

‘And _Sangwon,_ ’ Sehyuk couldn’t help the pressure and cursed himself. ‘He doesn’t want to die, I mean, but he’s not as sad as he is thoughtful, I think. He found out about Hojoon and Sangdo’s falling out, and he has a weird idea that our roles in the universes correlate to our inner worries.’

‘Hojoon and Sangdo fell out?’

Sehyuk bit his tongue.  _Fuck me. Fuck._ He didn’t want more people to know. He didn’t want the falling out to become a public issue. If it came to picking sides, they could lose themselves and lose each other, and that was his biggest fear. 

But there was no way back. Hansol was a funny type: he was as determined to find out the secret worries of the others as he was determined to keep his own. He seemed open-hearted an d emotional, but there was more to him than met the eye, and that hidden layer sometimes got Sehyuk almost scared. He glanced to Hansol and licked his teeth.

‘Um, yeah. They did. But I don’t know the reason at all. There’s just… tension.’

Hansol nodded thoughtfully.

‘I see… and Sangwonie had an idea that our roles somehow correlate to our feelings?’

‘That’s what he’s gathered.’

Hansol shook his head and laughed.

‘No, being a _coach_ doesn’t exactly look like me. I never liked teaching.’

The elevator kept going down. Sehyuk frowned.

‘How far down are we going?..’

He glanced to the indicator and  squinted  slightly. They confidently slipped past the first floor, and kept going down. A bright red ‘-1’ shone on the little screen, and only then the movement stopped.

‘So does this building have an underground layer?’

Hansol nodded, inviting him out with a gesture,

‘Yeah. There are a few layers. Underground for the things that take the most space, here in our building it’s the arena. It’s enormous, and the nature is perfectly recreated. It’s absolutely beautiful, if in a macabre sort of way. The ground layer is the jungle, and it’s for all things luxury. The lower air level is for all the simple people to live in, and for the shops, and the higher air level is the road.’

‘This is actually smart,’ Sehyuk admitted, looking around with wide eyes.

‘It kind of is,’ Hansol replied, taking him by the elbow and guiding him softly. ‘It’s also smart in a way that this society is so much more diverse and accepting now. You probably noticed what I’m wearing – and what you’re wearing, too.’

Sehyuk gave a short laugh.

‘Suits you,’ he remarked, genuinely.

Hansol nodded.

‘I like it. Although I’d prefer something more oversize. But what can you do?’ Sehyuk nodded. ‘Suits you too, by the way,’ Hansol smiled. ‘You’re looking good.’

Sehyuk smiled wider in reply.

‘Thank you.’

‘We’re there.’

They stopped in front of a small door. ‘FIELD TECHNICIAN AREA’, its said, in huge letters, and a little lower: ‘DO NOT ENTER’. Hansol glanced at Sehyuk and smiled.

‘Here, we go the old-fashioned way.’

He raised his hand and knocked.

‘Step back,’ he warned, pulling Sehyuk by the elbow. ‘The door opens to the outside.’

Sehyuk barely had time to back off. The door opened towards them rather sharply, and Sangdo looked at them uninvitingly – tall,  broad,  clad in a soft green skin-tight suit, his face stern and serious – unfamiliar.

‘Hello?’

‘Sangdo?’

Sangdo turned to Sehyuk.

‘Now who are y-’ he began. But Sehyuk interrupted:

‘Come on, you know me.’

The unfamiliar face was gone in an instant. Sangdo smiled widely and stepped out to drag them both into a b i g hug. Sehyuk noticed the way he held the door with his foot preventively.

‘There you are!’ he said happily, stepping back. ‘Come in, we probably have a lot to sort out, don’t we?’

Hansol nodded, stepping in first and patting Sangdo’s arm absentmindedly as he passed.

‘We do. I’ll get Sehyukie to your room, and you go bring Yooncheolie. We have to fetch him quick.’

Sangdo nodded, serious  at once .

‘Go on. I’ll be right behind you.’

And he turned and hurried away, slipping gracefully between huge machines.

‘Come on,’ Hansol called. ‘Be careful and don’t touch anything, even by accident. This is very important and very complex machinery – very sensitive, too.’

Sehyuk shivered and hurried after Hansol, bending in unimaginable angles to avoid passing even close to the huge sensor screens, panels and holographic miniatures. Everything was shining prettily and menacingly. Hansol opened a door in front of him, and Sehyuk went into a small, warmly lit room.

This one had no machinery, except for a small electric kettle and a sleek microwave. A bag was thrown haphazardly onto a nice soft couch, and clothes were folded on an armchair next to it.

‘It’s cozy here,’ Hansol remarked, sitting down and tapping the couch beside him. ‘I hang out here sometimes while Sangdo works. Well, in this universe, I mean,’ he smiled and looked down. ‘These universes have been going with me so organically somehow… they’re like real life.’

‘He-ey,’ Sehyuk pushed him slightly, sitting down beside him. ‘You have to be careful. This is a game.’

Hansol nodded.

‘I know.’

_A game._ Sehyuk had almost forgotten, for some reason. He stared into space in front of himself for a moment, taken aback.  _Why the hell did we all accept this so easily? In what world is it even okay?_ He suddenly became aware of how bizarre his surroundings were. The world became two-dimensional and surreal, Sehyuk’s breath hitched, and he felt like falling. Behind the futuristic entourage was black nothingness, and he sensed it suddenly sharply. There was nothing around him, nothing under his feet…

‘Sehyukie!’

The world returned as suddenly as it had disappeared. Sehyuk blinked a few times – and caught three stares upon himself: Hansol looked confused, Sangdo concerned, and Yooncheol towered above them, his features unreadable.

‘Huh?’ Sehyuk exhaled, staring at Yooncheol.

In a tight soft black suit, Yooncheol looked even thinner than he was – and in this universe, he was even thinner than he was in reality. He was perfectly still, his back straight as a stick, his heavy eyelids half-closed, he looked sickly and absent. His skin was pale, but his cheeks were unhealthily red. He looked weirdly scary – for an instant more.

‘Oh,’ he said, and smiled, stooping momentarily. ‘Hey, Sehyuk.’

‘Hey,’ Sehyuk smiled back slightly. ‘Welcome back, Mr. Scary Bodyguard.’

Yooncheol chuckled awkwardly.

‘Yeah, kinda, you know. A surprise even for me.’

‘He doesn’t think you’re capable,’ Hansol called, lying back on the sofa.

‘Huh?’ Yooncheol looked to Sehyuk, raising an eyebrow.

‘He’s lying,’ Sehyuk hurried, grinning widely.

‘No-no, it’s true,’ Hansol insisted, his eyes narrowed slyly. ‘You probably have to show him what you got.’

‘Guys,’ I don’t think we have time...’ Sangdo tried, but Sehyuk rose lightly. He had to admit he was curious.

‘On the second thought, yes, do show.’

Yooncheol locked his fingers together, smiling awkwardly.

‘Hey, really. Why would you want that?’

‘I wanna see you fight me down, - that, if you can,’ Sehyuk replied simply. He was watching Yooncheol demandingly. He was burning to see this lanky, stooped guy, with his long fragile neck and bony fingers, he was burning to see him fight for real.

Yooncheol pulled a face clearly saying ‘this is a stupid idea, you gotta knock it off’. Sangdo shot Sehyuk a displeased glance. Sehyuk inclined his head to the side, daring.

‘Yooncheolie, you have to show us,’ Hansol encouraged from the couch. ‘We all need to know you’d be able to fight even now that you are yourself, and not the field technician’s bodyguard.’

Yooncheol looked away, clearly unwilling to admit him right.

‘This is important,’ Sehyuk remarked.

Yooncheol let out a loud breath.  It was a difficult decision for him.

‘Fine. Okay. Let’s try.’ He stepped forward to the centre of the room. ‘Attack.’

He said it so simply, and pulled his shoulders back so calmly, exposing his chest, that Sehyuk doubted for a moment. Yooncheol looked him straight in the eyes.

‘Come on,’ he said.

Sehyuk took a deep breath and clenched his fists.  He wouldn’t back off.

_I can’t hurt him. His face is_ _too_ _far up to comfortably hit him in the cheekbone,_ _the groin or the stomach would be way, way too cruel… the legs and the chest. The bones. Not too hard. I won’t injure him._

He clenched his teeth and lashed forward. Kick! Yooncheol stepped his leg back smoothly, just in time with Sehyuk’s hit, and caught his leg in midair easily. Sehyuk lost his balance and tried to grab Yooncheol, but the long body bent like a snake, and he felt his arm grabbed tightly and painfully. He lost the floor under his foot and waved helplessly. In passing, he noticed Yooncheol’s face, terrifyingly calm and concentrated. Yooncheol lifted him with no visible effort, and then sent him to the floor with some inhuman strength. Sehyuk caught two gasps and shut his eyes tightly…

A strong hand caught him under his back, and his feet were on the floor as suddenly as they had been off of it.  It hurt a bit, but Sehyuk hardly felt anything. He gasped for air, and finally dared open his eyes. Yooncheol’s face smiled self-confidently close over his. It took Sehyuk a few instants to realize he was caught tango-style, his stomach pressed into Yooncheol’s – hard, flat, and raising and falling quickly.

‘Get off of me!!!’

Yooncheol laughed as he easily let go and took a seat on the couch beside Hansol, who was still covering his mouth with his hands. There, he rested his elbows on his haunches and leaned forward, panting heavily. He was way too human for the man whose murderously calm face had passed in front of Sehyuk in the moment of paralyzing fear.

Sehyuk shook himself and pulled a face.

‘You scared the shit out of me!’

Yooncheol shrugged apologetically.

‘You asked,’ he exhaled.

A figure passed on the edge of Sehyuk’s field of vision and fell onto the armchair. He turned his head. Sangdo froze on the seat, eyes square, arms wrapped around himself.

‘Sangdo? Are you okay?’ Sehyuk called.

Yooncheol let out a small gasp,  rose, and covered he distance between them in just a few steps.

‘Sangdo, hey!’

Sangdo looked to him and shook his head.

‘I’d _love_ to beat you up right now,’ he said, shaking his head, a little smile appearing in the corners of his lips. ‘I get it, they _did_ ask you to show off, but I legitimately thought for a moment that you would ram him headfirst into the floor. Yooncheolie, it’s a matter of – not seconds, - _ten_ _th_ _s_ of seconds.’

Yooncheol smiled softly.

‘I know better than anyone,’ he said, and then suddenly winced and turned around. ‘Hey, come on, that one hurt!’

Hansol took a step back and huffed, fists still clenched.

‘You’re a fucker,’ he said, childishly. Yooncheol sighed and nodded.

‘I know.’

Hansol stepped towards him again and nuzzled up to him, throwing his arms around him.

‘But that was hella impressive, I gotta admit,’ he muttered into his shoulder.

Yooncheol looked away and kept his arms hanging on both sides of his body. It seemed like only he could ever resist Hansol’s clinginess – he rarely reciprocated, and generally looked displeased with the affection,  despite always keeping a watchful eye out for when Hansol might need him, and Sehyuk always wondered at that.

Hansol raised his head and looked up at Yooncheol, and Yooncheol looked down at him. They gazed at each other for a little while, their face s moving ever so slightly in turn, and Sehyuk felt uncomfortable. It was almost like they were talking between themselves in a language he didn’t know, - they did that quite often – and it annoyed him beyond belief.

‘You two, we have stuff to do!’

Hansol released Yooncheol momentarily and headed off to sit on the arm of the couch, not looking up. Yooncheol sighed and sat down onto the arm of Sangdo’s armchair.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘So is there any kind of plan?’

Sehyuk looked away.

‘I don’t even know much about what Sangdo does here yet.’

Sangdo leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands.

‘I’m the main field technician,’ he said. ‘That’s the official name of the job. What I do is basically convert the script into concrete actions on the field. If I have to release the animals, I do, or I trigger avalanches, or start fire. All the physics of the field are on me, and I also curate making the traps in advance. That is, most would call me the butcher. The executioner, that is. I perform the writers’ will to ensure the death of the one and the safety of the other.’

He said it calmly, and gave a bitter smile. Sehyuk looked at his hands and scoffed.

‘No, Sangwon couldn’t be right.’

He felt almost happy about it.

‘About what?’

Sehyuk looked at Sangdo, and met the waiting gaze of his dark eyes. He looked calm, if little sad, his ears stuck out through his hair, and his fingers looked soft like dough. He was nothing like a butcher.

‘He has a theory that our roles in the universes are affected by our feelings in reality.’

Sangdo hemmed, glancing at Yooncheol.

‘Well, he might not be terribly wrong. I hate my job.’

‘Why are you still there, then? Murdering people like it’s no big deal?’

Sangdo sighed.

‘It pays. And I have an adopted daughter to feed.’ He smiled. ‘I’d much rather be a musician, you know, a singer, but that’s not a stable job these days. I can’t really play any instruments as good as to be a one man show, and the job leaves me no time to learn. I pretty much can’t compose, and I don’t have any friends who would invite me and help me. And I have no skills to promote myself, either. I sing for my daughter, but that’s it. If you’re curious, the idol industry has been destroyed a little while ago, and, I must confess, I’m not really sad about it.’

_A daughter._ Sangdo stopped talking, and silence established. Everything was suddenly too reality-like, even the entourage. Sehyuk pressed up his lips and looked down.  _The butcher. Huh, how easy tricked I am…_

Sangdo shook his head.

‘No-no, I didn’t say that for you to be sorry for me. This is just a backstory, completely made up, but just happening to resemble reality. As you see, again I sing, and this time I even have a little daughter.’ He sighed. ‘And tonight I’ll have to kill one or some of my friends, and this is what we don’t need.’

Sehyuk nodded firmly.

‘I had an idea,’ Hansol made his presence known, slipping from the arm of the couch to the seat. ‘We have to use the corpse recyclers’ help, Sanggyunie’s first of all.’

‘Sanggyun is a corpse recycler?’ Sangdo scoffed. ‘Really?’

‘Somehow,’ Hansol nodded. ‘One of the brutal ones.’

‘Brutal! A recycler!’

‘That’s right.’

Sangdo shrugged, shaking his head.

‘Amazing.’

‘So anyway, we’re gonna need some help from you.’

Sangdo straightened suddenly and reached his hand to his temple.

‘Coming,’ he said. He rose sharply, threw the door open, and stormed out, leaving the three In silence. The door closed automatically, slowly.

‘Where’d he go?’ Sehyuk asked, confused.

‘They probably brought him the script with the main plot twist,’ Yooncheol said, leaning back. ‘They usually bring it a day before the broadcast and he doesn’t leave for the night, but prepares. What the plot twist is, is a secret from most of the employees here. This time they’re late as fuck, though. He won’t have time to program and will have to do everything manually.’

‘We should probably be quiet,’ Hansol remarked, in a low voice.

Yooncheol nodded.

‘Yes, keep it down.’

‘Can you tell me about some of the… um, plot twists so far?’ Sehyuk asked quietly. Yooncheol looked away at the ceiling.

‘Last time it was a rockfall in a cave system where they were trying to hide from the animals. There were eight people before that episode. A couple was put to a test, delayed: one girl tripped, and the other stopped to help her. The rocks fell right in front of the two, when they were already in the cave with no way out, and the animals cornered them and ate them.’

He swallowed hard and fury slipped for a moment in his features, leaving only furrowed brows. Sehyuk bit his tongue slightly, holding back a sudden lump in his throat.

‘Before that, one guy sacrificed himself...’

He was interrupted as the door flew open, hitting the wall. Everyone turned to the direction of the sound. Sangdo was standing in the doorway, pale as the walls around, even paler against his bright green suit, holding a hand to his temple.

‘Guys,’ he said quietly. ‘Guys. I’ve got the twist.’

He took a few wide strides and sat down onto the armchair.

‘Listen here,’ he said quietly and seriously.

‘Wait a sec.’

Sangdo looked up at Hansol. Hansol came up from his end of the sofa and sat down on the floor at Sangdo’s feet. Sehyuk  came to crouch down beside him, and looked to Sangdo.

‘What is it?’

Sangdo licked his lips and let out a loud breath.

‘The twist today, guys,’ he said, ‘is that I release a deadly toxin into the air over the arena, letting it slowly spread, and all the players slowly die. The time is not stated, the command will be given in the process. You will need to hurry up, alright? I will try to mark the time as much as I can, you need to hit me up and let me know all of you guys are safe.’

‘And you’ll fight your way out?’ Sehyuk asked, glancing to Yooncheol.

Yooncheol sighed.

‘This is harder than it seems,’ he said. ‘The weaponry is activated only by signal from the guys on the cameras, in response to my signal. This is one thing, and the other is: this chip in my head is a special model. While I’m in the building, from the time I check in till the time I check out, it’s under control. That is, if I start a fight without an order or without a cause, it will start hurting me. It can also obstruct my vision considerably. That all is not deadly, however. Probably.’

He looked away and chewed on his lips. His fingers were moving nervously.

‘Well, where are your cameras?’ Sehyuk asked, trying to sound brave.

‘Everywhere,’ Sangdo answered instead of Yooncheol. ‘From what I know, there is a camera in every machine, in every corner of the room and on the ceiling. The places with no cameras are toilets, obviously, and some personal rooms, like this one. All the rooms where we work are monitored constantly.’

Yooncheol nodded from his seat. Sehyuk licked his lips.

‘Well...’

‘It’s okay,’ Yooncheol said, glancing over at Hansol. ‘I’ll do what’s required of me nevertheless. Sangdo will do his best to delay the release of the toxin, and when you let us know all the other guys are safe, I’ll do my best to get us out to meet you. Where should we meet, though?’

‘It’s best we meet beside some room where we can lock up,’ Hansol said, slowly and thoughtfully. ‘And it better be close to your room, Sangdo, because if – when – Yooncheol’s chip starts causing trouble, it will only be a matter of time until he can’t fight any more, while the players plus Sehyuk plus Sanggyun make more than three – like us – and they won’t be obstructed by anything else than security guards.’

‘I know what we can do,’ Yooncheol said suddenly, with a little smile spreading on his face. ‘We have our own agent among those who monitor cameras. Guess who.’

Sangdo frowned and counted his fingers quickly.

‘Jiho? It’s him right?’ He turned to Yooncheol. Yooncheol nodded, smile wide.

‘How can we contact him?’ Sehyuk asked, feeling sickly excitement starting to bubble in his throat.

Yooncheol raised his index finger.

‘Listen here, my children,’ he said, raising his chin slightly. ‘The camera watchers are officially members of security personnel. Just like me, that is. And all the security guards have a system of contacting each other in case of an emergency. When it’s general emergency, the signal is directed automatically, but there is an option of a personalized call. Which means, I can contact Jiho anytime!’

Sehyuk examined his proud face and hemmed.

‘This is all good, but just tell me how _I_ can contact him.’

‘I can project him,’ Yooncheol said simply. ‘It’s kind of like videochat, but more advanced. Let me just...’

He touched his temple, moved his eyes here, there, moved his fingers, and then rose and stood straight in front of the wall .  Hansol and Sangdo watched him calmly, but Sehyuk tingled a little in expectation of something curious.

‘This _might_ look weird, Sehyuk,’ Yooncheol warned. ‘Technology has advanced a lot, and some things may seem bizarre.’

‘Come on,’ Sehyuk encouraged.

‘Come stand next to me.’

Sehyuk rose and came up to Yooncheol, glancing up at him, waiting. Yooncheol looked up quickly, and stared into the wall. Sehyuk noticed tiny rays coming out of his pupil s , suddenly dilated, and looked to where they were ending. A hologram of a mask appeared on the wall, fleshing out, slowly adopting Jiho’s features.

‘Come on, answer,’ Yooncheol muttered.

Sehyuk watched the face coming out of the wall in wonder. It was shiny white, its eyes closed.

‘No answer?’ Sehyuk dared ask.

Yooncheol sighed.

‘Waiting,’ he said, briefly.

Sehyuk looked to the mask.  In a moment, its eyes opened, and it coloured up, presenting a big relief of Jiho’s face. It looked fascinating and a bit frightening, mostly because each eye was the size of Sehyuk’s fist.

‘Hello?’

‘Jiho, hello,’ Yooncheol said, officially. ‘I’m projecting.’

Jiho rolled his eyes.

‘Oh my God. You could at least tell me in advance. Is this some kind of a conference? Who are these?’

‘Jiho?’ Sehyuk called. Jiho’s eyes looked straight at him, and Sehyuk had to straighten to fight the urge to step back.

‘Who are _you?’_

‘I’m Sehyuk,’ Sehyuk replied, perplexed. Jiho’s mask shook violently, glitching a little, and then stopped, squinting at Sehyuk.

‘Sehyukie? Hansolie? S-Shingdu?!’

‘Yeah,’ Sangdo called from the back. ‘Hey there, Jojo.’

Jiho’s face alit with a wide smile.

‘O-oh, so I see it right. The picture is not very clear.’

‘My chip is not very advanced,’ Yooncheol replied busily. ‘Jiho, we’re in business.’

‘I figured that much,’ Jiho smiled, glancing at Yooncheol. ‘You fetched me, I get it. Are there five fetched so far?’

‘No, I’ve already fetched the players,’ Sehyuk replied. ‘Hojoon, Byungjoo and Sangwon. We still have to get Sanggyun, but we need his help anyway, so that’s just a matter of time.’

‘Jiho, it’s about the twist,’ Sangdo said, rising from his seat and coming up to Yooncheol and Sehyuk. ‘It’s deadly for the guys, we need to delay it as long as possible, and we need your help.’

‘You’re lucky I’m not watching the field today,’ Jiho smirked. ‘So you’re going to make trouble, and you want me to keep it secret for you?’

‘As much as possible,’ Yooncheol nodded ever so slightly, and the hologram shook up and down. ‘I know you won’t keep it forever, you won’t even keep it long, but do what you can. We will be waiting for you… Sangdo, where?’

It took him a visible effort not to turn his head habitually. Sangdo looked away thoughtfully.

‘A little bit down the corridor from my room, there’s a toilet. It locks up from the inside, and we’ll be able to hide there. Let’s all meet inside, deal?’

‘This is gonna be trouble,’ Yooncheol remarked. ‘I bet the guards will report me and start a fight, sooner or later, and they’ll try to get into the toilet. How will we know whom to let in?’

‘Don’t lock up until you’ve gathered all,’ Jiho suggested, inclining his head to the side. ‘And, um – keep someone outside to let others in?’

Sehyuk snapped and did the finger-guns at him.

‘You’re good.’

‘Sounds like a good idea,’ Hansol supported from the further end of the room. ‘I think we have to get going.’

‘Yooncheol should better give you my code,’ Jiho said, glancing to Yooncheol, ‘so everyone could contact me if his chip gets corrupted, which it probably will.’

‘I’ll share,’ Yooncheol said. ‘We should really get going.’

‘In that case, bye guys,’ Jiho smiled. ‘See you then.’

‘See you, Jojo,’ Sangdo said, quietly.

The mask disappeared, and Yooncheol blinked fiercely, then brought his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes.

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Hansol called.

‘This gets really fucking tiring, working as a projector,’ Yooncheol dropped, straightening and blinking again, trying to focus.

‘Hansolie and Sehyukie, you should go get Sanggyun’s help,’ Sangdo reminded.

Sehyuk glanced to Hansol. Hansol nodded and rose, fixing his dress.

‘Fine then. Let’s rock.’

* * *

The corridors underneath the stage reminded Sehyuk  the  most of Resident Evil. They were white and narrow, and the screens depicting beautiful nature served as windows. As Hansol guided him on, Sehyuk was beginning to feel claustrophobic. The walls and the ceiling were pushing down on him, and the screens seemed more and more bizarre and surreal as they turned time and time again.

‘There we are,’ Hansol said, stopping by a door. ‘Just a moment. I have access.’

Sehyuk watched uneasily as Hansol opened the door and invited him in. He hesitated before entering. In the room, he could see people moving busily up and down, fixing, talking, checking.

‘How much time do we have left till it goes on air?’ Sehyuk asked quietly.

Hansol shrugged.

‘A few hours, maybe. Not too much.’

_I can’t wait to get this over with, -_ Sehyuk thought. Aloud, he said nothing, he just sighed and stepped into the room. The door closed behind him automatically.

He looked around, searching for a familiar face, but he couldn’t distinguish anyone’s face at all. The recyclers mostly wore masks, and those who didn’t had visors reflecting the white light from the ceiling. They mimicked the white space around them with their white uniforms, and when they slid soundlessly out of the room through doorless frames, it looked like they just disappeared through the walls. Sehyuk stopped, confused, and glanced to Hansol.

‘How are we supposed to find him?’ he whispered.

Hansol bit his lower lip, looking around.

‘Well, I was guessing they would be busy, but they’re way busier than I’d expected,’ he confessed.

‘This is not helping much.’

Hansol huffed and grabbed Sehyuk by the elbow.

‘I guess I know whom to ask.’

Sehyuk could do nothing but follow as Hansol dragged him on, by some miracle not pushing anybody. Sehyuk was less successful, and earned himself some pretty evil remarks. He looked over his shoulder for every one, but Hansol paid no attention. He stopped abruptly, and Sehyuk rain into him, apologizing habitually. Hansol shushed him, not even turning. He stopped beside a small group of people, one of whom w as  giving orders, and the others running away and back again.

‘Misha.’

The one giving orders turned to Hansol and sent him a displeased glance.

‘What now? I’m busy, Hansol.’

‘I won’t take long, I promise,’ Hansol raised his eyebrows pleadingly. ‘I just wanted to ask you where Sanggyun is.’

Misha rolled his eyes and raised his arm.

‘Over there somewhere.’

His finger was pointed right at a huge machine in the corner. A few people were fidgeting in front of it.

‘Thank you!’ Hansol bowed low, but Misha wasn’t looking. He turned away to listen to what one of his subordinates had to say, and paid no more attention to Hansol or Sehyuk.

‘Come on,’ Hansol pulled at Sehyuk’s arm. ‘Misha always knows where everyone is.’

Sehyuk only nodded, hurrying after Hansol. He thought he already noticed Sanggyun among the workers.

He guessed by the figure, by the way of walking, of standing – but most of all by a huge afro poorly pulled together with a hair tie. Sanggyun was the most fidgety one of maybe three, and he kept talking to his colleagues. Hansol and Sehyuk stopped beside the machine and waited, probably both hesitating to hallo first.

Hansol was bolder. He stepped forward and reached his arm out.

‘Um, Sanggyun?’

Sanggyun turned sharply – he really was the one with the afro, - pulled his visor up and looked at Hansol from under furrowed brows.

‘What do you need?’

Hansol backed off a little, and Sehyuk realized he had to intervene and fetch.

‘It’s actually me,’ he said, dying a little inside. ‘I need.’

Sanggyun looked at him, and if looks could kill, Sehyuk would already have been dead.

‘What do _you_ need?’ he asked, sharply. ‘You wanna test our new recycling equipment as corpses?’

And he laughed coarsely, his colleagues supporting him from behind his back.

‘Actually no,’ Sehyuk tried. ‘I’m Sehyuk.’

He finally caught Sanggyun’s eyes. Sanggyun looked at him silently for a second more, then took them both by upper arms and dragged them to the further end of the room, where there were fewer people. Not a single muscle moved on his face all the while, and Sehyuk wondered at it.

Sanggyun stopped in his tracks as abruptly as he  had started moving. He turned Hansol and Sehyuk to face him and the next tirade he spat right into their faces in a shouting whisper.

‘Wow, how dumb are you, I can’t believe that! Coming right here when we work, right in the moment when they’re at their most attentive! You could have waited until the game started, and no one would notice you! Okay, okay, well, at least you fetched me. But you should have waited!!! Damn it, guys, we’re terribly late and we need to get everything prepared for the episode, we go on air in so little, and fuck knows when we are expecting the first corpse! There are so many terminals, they die like flies, ugh!’

Sehyuk and Hansol, who kept looking at each other and back at Sanggyun, cringed and looked away. Sanggyun covered his mouth with his hand.

‘Oh my God, I’m talking. You guys, you gotta tell me everything!’

He grabbed Sehyuk’s shoulders and stared into his eyes pleadingly. Sehyuk moved his shoulders uneasily, trying to get free.

‘We-ell, what to tell you? Everyone is fetched already...’

‘Sanggyunie, we need your help,’ Hansol interrupted, having collected himself much quicker. ‘There are three members among the players: Hojoon, Sangwon and Byungjoo. We need to get them out of there to gather all together. You can help us get them off the field, right?’

Sanggyun let go of Sehyuk’s shoulders, and rubbed his chin.

‘We-ell, theoretically, this is achievable.’

‘What about practically?’ Sehyuk asked impatiently.

‘Practically, we only have the right to enter the field when someone is dead. If we get noticed… well, we’ll have trouble.’

‘We’ll have trouble anyway,’ Sehyuk remarked, smiling, feeling the sickly excitement returning to curl up in his gut. ‘Let’s just say we’ll have to get our asses out of it together.’

‘Now I’m glad you cam this early. My best advice is to tell guys to play dead,’ Sanggyun said thoughtfully. ‘Are they terminals?’

‘Hojoon is,’ Sehyuk replied. ‘Sangwon and Byungjoo are criminals.’

‘Well, that’s not so good.’

‘I can tell them to play dead,’ Hansol made his presence known. ‘I will have a word with them before they venture out anyway. I’ll tell them when they should play dead, and then I’ll tell you when to take them away.’

‘I just don’t need anyone to recycle them before I can get them,’ Sanggyun said, grimly.

Hansol waved his hands in the air.

‘Don’t say that! That is total bullshit. No one will recycle them. Sehyukie will stay and help you out, how do you like that?’

‘I don’t even know where I can hide them among all these people,’ Sanggyun sighed. ‘During the game they don’t really pay attention, but if anyone notices the players alive in here – we’re screwed.’

Sehyuk looked around at the workers running here and there. They all were wearing uniforms, resembling those of food factory workers, or surgeons, making them shapeless, faceless, making them one.

‘I guess we could hide them in plain sight,’ he said, grinning. ‘You know what I’m saying?’

Sanggyun squinted.

‘Not really.’

‘I guess I know what he means,’ Hansol looked to Sehyuk, reflecting his smile. ‘Do you guys have any spare uniforms? Or do we have anybody to undress?’

Sanggyun’s eyes widened, just like his smile.

‘That might actually work!’ he exclaimed, slapping his hips. ‘We _do_ have uniforms, and masks and visors, and no one ever cares how many people are here, the only thing important is that they be put to work. Why haven’t I thought about it myself?!’

He slapped his forehead. Hansol caught his wrist and lowered it softly.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘It’s okay. How about you go get one for Sehyuk, and then you two dress the others as they come?’

Sanggyun beamed and nodded.

‘Fine then.’

‘Give me your code, then.’

Sanggyun touched his temple and searched his system with a busy look on his face.

* * *

Pretending to work as a corpse recycler turned out to be exhausting and troublesome. Sehyuk had to run after Sanggyun all the time, and do what he told him to do, and while it sounded simple, some of the manipulations were hard to do with a straight face.

Sehyuk couldn’t swallow a lump in his throat.  _What if Hansol didn’t have time to explain? What if he didn’t explain clearly enough? What if they misunderstood something?_

The actions on the field had no impact whatsoever on the goings-on beneath it. Aside from an announcement about the start of the game, made through chips of all the workers at once, and a call from Hansol later, telling them to expect Hojoon first, there was no sign of any activity overhead. At last, all the workers ended up seated in various poses and in various places around the rooms and in between them, waiting for any other announcement.

‘Sehyukie!’

Sanggyun grabbed his arm suddenly. Sehyuk swiped his screen away with his eyes and looked around, blinking to return to his senses. Not much changed, the recyclers were still asit on their spots, but some started looking around lazily.

‘Somebody, take the stiff at C-53!’ somebody called half-heartedly across the room.

‘That’s Hojoon,’ Sanggyun whispered, and called back: ‘Taking.’

He made his voice sound lazy and unwilling. Sehyuk rose after him.

‘You two need any help?’ the nearest neighbour asked Sanggyun, without much enthusiasm.

‘Eh, we’ll do fine,’ Sanggyun waved his hand and looked over his shoulder for Sehyuk. Sehyuk nodded, and Sanggyun gestured him to follow.

* * *

The l ines  of gates – square openings in the ceiling, now closed, - were named in reverse alphabetical order. The closest one to the exit was Z, and in the humongous room with lines Z, Y, and X, there were still a few workers lying in the floor or stretching. They passed the room silently, steadily, following to the next one.

As soon as they passed the last worker and entered the next room, Sanggyun quickened his pace and unzipped his uniform down to his chest, revealing a bright orange tee, semi-transparent to reveal his muscles.

‘Hey, look up!’ he encouraged, seeing as Sehyuk didn’t hurry to do the same. ‘We’re taking a lift from here.’

He invited Sehyuk with a gesture towards a rectangular glass tube, pressed something on the surface and got through the opening onto a small metal platform. ‘Come on!’

‘Meh,’ Sehyuk dropped, unzipping the uniform ever so slightly and getting onto the platform beside Sanggyun. He was scared that they were breaking the rules, and he was scared of getting caught. ‘Why isn’t everything fully automatized? I mean, the technology is so advanced, and you still have to drag the corpse in with your hands...’

Sanggyun gave a short laugh.

‘They skimped,’ he said simply. ‘That would be a whole new level of technology, developed only recently, and they already spent a ton on this highly sensitive field. Changing it would cost them much more than they spend now paying all this army of recyclers, believe it or not. Maybe in the next season.’

‘Why are there so many, though?’ Sehyuk wondered, watching with worry as Sanggyun locked the little metal-rimmed box inside the tube and pushed the C button. They started moving – slowly, and then faster and faster. Sehyuk noticed in surprise that he couldn’t sense the motion at all.

‘In the beginning, there are much more players, and much more corpses,’ Sanggyun explained, ‘some are pretty heavy, some come dismembered or almost liquid, and they all must be wiped off clean, or some item must be left behind, according to the script. And the machinery is so complex, a team has to control the programming of each. They’re all narrowly specialized, and, well, the machinery is old. It was bought for the first season, on the startup money, and the earnings have been spent on everything that would make the show more spectacular. The job of a corpse recycler is dirty and disgusting, and this part of the process is always overlooked. We are the last thing they’re concerned about.’

He shrugged and went strangely silent. The box stopped and Sanggyun invited Sehyuk to come out.

The last room was the biggest. Sanggyun looked to their left, and pointed his finger there.

‘See? That is the gate.’

One of the square doors was opened , and a plate on the floor under it was framed with railing and green lights. As they came up to it, Sanggyun opened a little door in the railing, let Sehyuk in first, and entered after him, pushing a big button on the plate with his foot. A loud sound came, and they started slowly rising, and Sehyuk felt his heart sink to his stomach.

‘Hey. don’t worry, Sanggyun hurried to cheer up. ‘In just a moment, we’ll be on solid ground again.’

And he zipped his uniform up to his throat.

In another second, the plate stopped its motion. They were surrounded with beautiful light forest, sun shining through the crowns of the sparse trees. The birds were singing overhead, and the wind caressed Sehyuk’s cheeks softly. He stopped, looking up, and felt little and happy.

‘Don’t get too carried away,’ Sanggyun reminded from aside. ‘There is our _stiff,_ we gotta take him away.’

Sehyuk looked down, at his own and Sanggyun’s white suits, and sighed. Sanggyun pointed his hand at something a little further away, under the tree.

‘Hojoon,’ he informed, shrugging. Sehyuk sighed, opened the door and stepped off the plate into the grass.

The y walked silently up to where Hojoon was lying. As they came closer, Sehyuk could see him better. He was curled up on the ground with his back to them, his arms were dropped to the sides widely and awkwardly, his face turned down. His cap fell off his head, and was lying tossed aside, revealing the bald head. Sehyuk stared at his  ribcage to catch the slightest sigh of breathing, but there was none. Pale and thin, Hojoon looked more like a corpse than he liked. Sehyuk shivered. Sanggyun knelt down beside Hojoon and turned him onto his back, grabbing his cap on the way and putting it on.

‘Grab his legs,’ he dropped busily, not even looking at Sehyuk.

‘Huh? Oh… oh, okay, a sec,’ Sehyuk followed Sanggyun’s example and knelt down beside Hojoon, throwing his legs on his shoulders.

‘You ready? Stand up,’ Sanggyun ordered, and Sehyuk stood up.

Hojoon was soft in his arms, and lighter than he was used to feel him.

‘Ugh, you’re not helping much,’ Sanggyun scoffed. ‘Better go open the door for me and push the button.’

He put Hojoon back down and scooped him bridal style, while Sehyuk hurried to open the door and let him in. As he stepped on the button, the plate moved back down, slowly, with the same loud sound. As soon as it leveled with the floor, the gate closed.

Sehyuk hurried to open the door just as he heard a quiet, pained moan. He threw the door open at the speed of light, and Sanggyun, with a loud breath, crouched down and let Hojoon off. Hojoon crawled a little away and dropped to the floor, breathing heavily, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

‘Hojoonie, are you okay?’

Sehyuk knelt down beside Hojoon, and put his hand on his head softly. The head was terrifyingly smooth. Hojoon let out a sob.

‘It hurts, Sehyukie… I don’t know if I can take much longer...’

‘Oh my God,’ Sanggyun was crouching down beside them, stroking Hojoon’s back. ‘You have cancer, right?’

Hojoon nodded, gritting his teeth. H e lowered his face, crinkled miserably, as he fought back tears of pain.

‘He needs a strong painkiller, but those are only given personally to the ill, or to their doctor. We don’t have any one of us among the doctors, do we?’

Sehyuk shook his head.

‘Do you have at least the usual one?’

Sanggyun shook his head.

‘All the medicines are stored in the clinic, but I can’t leave you guys here to go for them. We’ll have to ask someone outside.’

‘I’ll call Hansol.’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘Fine. But Hojoonie will still have to wait until we gather all three here and escape.’

Sehyuk glanced to Hojoon, curled up in Sanggyun’s arms, and shook his head.

‘They better hurry...’

* * *

Each room with the gate openings had its own side room with recycling machinery. Sanggyun brought them in and left to get a uniform for Hojoon, while the two stayed in strained expectation. Well, at least Sehyuk was strained to the point. Hojoon didn’t look like there was anything left in him to strain. As soon as Sehyuk let him slide to the floor, he crawled until his back hit the wall, curled up, hiding his face, and cried silently and desperately. His shoulders were shaking, but he barely let out a sound, and it looked alien and terrifying.

Sehyuk crawled up to him, not knowing how to help, and threw his arms around him thoughtlessly. Hojoon leaned into him and  sniffed .

‘I’m sorry,’ he managed, ‘I just can’t hold it in… it hurts so much…’

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Sehyuk muttered, stroking his head. ‘I don’t mind...’

That was a lie, and Hojoon knew it better than anyone. He took a deep breath and tried to tame his ragged breathing. Sehyuk couldn't see his face, but he was guessing what he would see if he did.

‘Sehyukie, I’m scared,’ Hojoon said quietly. ‘If I die now, and we still aren’t gathered together… I don’t wanna be lost like this. I don’t want to know what happens. I don’t want to be out without you guys. What – I mean, what would you do without me?’

He let out a bitter laugh – and heaved, falling helplessly onto Sehyuk. Sehyuk leaned him onto the wall and finally looked into his face. Hojoon’s cheeks were all wet, and the muscles on his jaw were rolling as he made an immense effort to even breathe. He stared into the distance and took another deep breath – in and out.

‘I can’t... leave now,’ he said quietly.

‘But look, we can stay here and inform everyone!’ Sehyuk hurried. ‘Like, I can call the guys and tell them to leave everything and go lie down where they are standing...’

‘Do you know how long it takes Sangdo to fall asleep?’ Hojoon asked weakly.

Sehyuk looked down.

‘He tumbles for over an hour on usual days,’ Hojoon sighed. ‘When he is worried, it will take even longer. Jiho needs time, too. And it’s _you_ who has the sleeping pills...’

Sehyuk frowned.

‘Do I?..’

He tapped his hips and heard a familiar cracking sound of a blister. He didn’t remember ever putting it there – he didn’t even remember the uniform having pockets. He found a hidden zipper on his hip, opened the pocket and  shoved his hand in – and found two blisters.

‘How?’ he muttered, taken aback.

Hojoon sighed.

‘I don’t know… maybe they’re always on you.’

Sehyuk looked away.

‘Maybe...’

The first name Hojoon said was Sangdo. Wasn’t it always the first name he mentioned?  _‘Let’s go somewhere!’ - ‘How about Sangdo?’. ‘We are having a meeting.’ - ‘I’ll call Sangdo.’_ And yet, the weird tension between the two.

‘Hojoonie.’

‘M.’

‘What’s between you and Sangdo?’

Hojoon let out another bitter laugh – short and pitched, ending in a little pained moan.

‘It isn’t worth mentioning. Maybe I’m stupid – maybe. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want you to know, okay?’

Sehyuk raised his eyebrows in a pained expression.

‘But maybe I can help!’

‘You can’t help here,’ Hojoon cut off unexpectedly sharply. ‘No one can help here except Sangdo himself. But we need time, and if I pass out or die now, we might never have that time. What if I cease to exist for a while? What if I get thrown out into reality to cover your absence, not knowing where you are and how you are doing? What if I return with my mind disfigured beyond repair, doomed to spend the rest of my days in a mental institution? No, I can’t risk it. It can’t end like this.’

He grasped himself with his arm around his stomach, and pressed up his lips, panting heavily. The monologue took him a lot of strength, scarce without this much strain. Sehyuk shivered. He saw a little ball of power wrapped in a bony body, and his heart filled with awe and jealousy.

‘Guys, I’m here!’ Sanggyun fell to his knees beside them, winded, worry written all over his face. ‘Hojoonie!’

Hojoon raised his head. Sanggyun pushed a pile of folded white fabric into his lap.

‘Wear this.’

Hojoon nodded.

‘Do I need to take off my clothes?’

Sanggyun shook his head.

‘Just your jacket.’

Hojoon pushed heavily off the wall. The white pile fell to the floor, but Hojoon didn’t even look. It took him a lot of effort to stand up, and he bent forward a little, straining to stay in his feet. He slipped his jacket off and dropped it on the floor, then pushed his sneakers off his feet with his toes.

‘Give me,’ he held a hand out.

Sehyuk picked up the costume and put it into his hand. Hojoon’s thin fingers clenched onto the fabric, and the veins stuck out even more. They both watched him get dressed. He moved slowly, biting onto his lip harder and harder, but when Sanggyun stepped forward to help, he raised his hand in a stop sign. Neither tried again.

Sehyuk’s temple started itching suddenly. He reached his hand up to scratch. ‘Kim Hansol calling,’ said the screen. It took Sehyuk a little while to remember how to answer calls.

‘Hansolie?’

Hansol’s face appeared on the screen.

‘Hey,’ he said, quickly. ‘Come out, I brought the medicine.’

Sehyuk frowned, then gasped upon sudden remembering.

‘Oh! Yeah, yeah, a second.’

‘Hurry up,’ Hansol said, and hung up.

‘Hansol?’ Sanggyun asked, as if he hadn’t heard.

Sehyuk nodded.

‘Yes, him. He brought the painkillers. Can I go out?’

Sanggyun smiled slightly.

‘Well, officially, you can’t. But you can, if you do everything quietly. You saw them out there,’ he pointed with his chin to the direction of the gates X-Z. ‘You know how they “work”.’

Sehyuk smiled slightly.

‘Move slowly and be quiet,’ Sanggyun warned. ‘Put on the visor and go.’

* * *

Sehyuk was very,  _very_ close to the door. He could see it. He moved slowly along the wall, a few inches away from the feet of a tight row of people leaning onto the wall. Their eyes and fingers were moving ever so slightly, but their screens were invisible, and it was terrifying. Their eyes seemingly pierced through Sehyuk, although they couldn’t see him.

It was even harder because all he could hear was the sound of his heart pounding. He couldn’t hear his own footsteps, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was so quiet or because his heart was so loud.

Another step.

And another.

No one called, no one made a sound, except occasional laugh or sigh. They were all in themselves, Sehyuk was safe, but he was scared nevertheless.

Another step. And another.

He reached out and touched the door. He remembered how to open it. He slipped out and ran right into Hansol.

‘Where’ve you been?!’ Hansol whispered loudly, frowning.

‘It was a little hard getting out,’ Sehyuk shrugged apologetically.

Hansol rolled his eyes.

‘Oh whatever. Here you are,’ he slipped a little plastic bag into Sehyuk’s hand. ‘Sangdo used his special rights here to get him the actual cancer pain reliever. Forgot the name. Byungjoo is coming soon, hurry up. You know how to make injections?’

‘What?!’

‘I need to hurry.’ Hansol knitted his eyebrows. ‘If nothing else, Hojoon knows how to do it. He has to, he’s had, like, a million injections already. Hurry up, you will slip quickly when Byungjoo comes.’

He tapped Sehyuk’s shoulder reassuringly, reached around him to open the door, and strode away, not turning back.

Sehyuk grabbed the door and slipped inside, stopping to glance at the thick plastic bag in his hand. It contained a strange ampule and something resembling a slender syringe. He shook his head.

_If nothing else, Hojoon knows what to do. He has to know._

He blinked fiercely a couple times and stepped confidently forward.

‘Who will grab the stiff at N-15?’ someone called lazily.

_Byungjoo._

His heart raced.

‘I will,’ he replied, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.

‘Oh, fine,’ the same voice replied, and Sehyuk, letting out an easy breath, hurried freely towards the door.

* * *

Sanggyun jumped to his feet when he saw Sehyuk.

‘Byungjoo is coming,’ he informed excitedly. ‘Have you brought the medicine?’

Sehyuk nodded.

‘I have. Hojoonie, I will need your help.’

‘I figured as much,’ Hojoon replied wearily from where he was sitting, curled up against the wall.

‘I’ll go bring Byungjoo,’ Sanggyun informed, pushing the door open. ‘You guys stay here, I hope to see Hojoon slightly better when I come back.’

Sehyuk glanced to Hojoon.

‘Yeah, I’ll try to be,’ he replied, holding out his hand. ‘What you got?’

The door closed softly, automatically. Sehyuk passed Hojoon the bag and shrugged.

‘I don’t really know.’

Hojoon accepted the package, glanced at it – and his eyes widened.

‘What? Really?! How’d they get that?!’

Sehyuk licked his lips quickly, looking away.

‘Um… Hansol said Sangdo used his _special rights here_ to get this. What is it?’

Hojoon looked up at him, and a tiny smirk appeared on his face.

‘What is it? _What_ is it?! This is the painkiller I get every day. This is the one I got before going out into the field. It’s the only one that helps, even if for a little while.’

Sehyuk smiled, softly, unsurely.

‘Well, I… I’m glad. But I don’t really know how to make injections.’

Hojoon waved his hand in the air and rose, quickly, albeit with effort.

‘Is okay. I’ll show you.’

He leaned onto the wall and unpacked the ampule and the syringe. With his teeth, he bit off the glass tip and spat it to the side. Sehyuk opened his mouth to ask him not to do that, but decided not to. Hojoon filled the syringe and pushed a droplet out.

‘Here.’ He admired the little ball of liquid on the needle and handed the syringe to Sehyuk. ‘You aren’t afraid of butts, are you?’

Sehyuk shook his head, frowning.

‘Um, no...’

Hojoon unzipped the white uniform, standing  with his legs wide to be at least a little more steady. He slid out of the sleeves, pushed the overall down, hissing in pain, unzipped his jeans and slipped them down together with his underwear, revealing a pair of pale buttocks.

‘Here.’ he pointed at the top of the right one. ‘Around here. Dig the entire needle inside at once, then push slowly.’

Sehyuk shivered.

‘That must hurt...’

Hojoon scoffed.

‘Not more than it already does. Come on, do it, that’s fucking embarrassing.’

He glanced over his shoulder to Sehyuk – his eyes were wet and pleading. His thin, knobby finger was still pressed into the supposed place of injection. Sehyuk swallowed hard and stepped forward.

‘Okay,’ he said, a little shaky, ‘I’ll do my best.’

‘Do it fast,’ Hojoon said, turning away. ‘The whole needle must go in at once, alright? The top quarter of the buttocks.’

Sehyuk nodded, squinting a little, focusing on the right ‘quarter’. He took a deep breath, bit onto his lower lip hard, and dug the syringe into Hojoon’s flesh.

Hojoon didn’t even shiver. Sehyuk took the syringe between his fingers and pressed slowly with his thumb. The syringe gave a little hissing sound and continued on automatically. Sehyuk watched it, until it was empty, and then he softly retrieved it and glanced at his own hand disbelievingly.

‘You’re… done?’ he said, wondering at how easy it turned out.

‘Thanks,’ Hojoon dropped over his shoulder, pulling his underwear and his jeans up.

Sehyuk dropped the syringe to the floor and looked away, trying to push back the sight of greenish, pencil thin legs and nonexistent buttocks, covered in little bruises. He heard Hojoon zip up his overall and slide heavily back down to the floor.

‘It’s gotta be better soon,’ he called. Sehyuk turned to him, went up and slid down beside him.

‘We’ll wait,’ he said, simply.

Hojoon shook his head.

‘There isn’t much time left to wait,’ he said. ‘Look, this painkiller is so strong it fucks me up entirely. I might vomit sometime soon, and I will certainly be sleepy in half an hour the very most. We all will have to hurry.’

Sehyuk bit his lower lip. Hojoon sighed, moved closer, and rested his head on Sehyuk’s shoulder.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I can fight sleep. Without the medicine I’d have probably fainted or died, and these are much harder to control, you know?’

Sehyuk wasn’t reassured, but he nodded firmly.

‘Yeah. That’s right.’

He knew that Hojoon sensed his doubts. He heard a little sigh.

‘I know,’ Hojoon said. ‘I don’t believe myself, too. I guess we’re more alike than we think we are.’

‘How so?’ Sehyuk asked, staring at a flat back of a machine in front of him.

‘You have to be the big person, and I do, too,’ Hojoon explained, shrugging a little. ‘I do it willingly most of the time, but I get tired of that shit...’

‘You’re much better at that than I am,’ Sehyuk said, sincerely. ‘You’re much bigger a person.’

He glanced at Hojoon – he had always been short, but muscular, and his slender body radiated strength. Now, he was miniature and bony, and he looked fragile. He didn’t look like the big person. On the second thought, Sehyuk agreed he, himself, didn’t either.

Hojoon laughed briefly.

‘You don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you don’t.’

Sehyuk sighed, leaning his head back onto the wall.

‘I don’t,’ he agreed. ‘I know that I know nothing. You know, I’m lost.’

‘I feel lost much more often than I want to,’ Hojoon confessed, softly. ‘Lately I’ve been more lost than ever.’

Sehyuk lingered for a moment, tasting the risky question on the tip of his tongue.

‘Does it… have something to do with Sangdo?’

Hojoon was silent for a few seconds, and Sehyuk cursed himself and regretted ever asking.

‘It does,’ Hojoon said. ‘And… after all, I guess it’s my fault. Or maybe not. You know, I can’t always take responsibility. When there’re two people involved, there has to be some exchange. But then, I had to be the big person, but I couldn’t, and… I betrayed us both...’ he slapped his knee. ‘No, you know what – no! I don’t have to always do everything! I didn’t sign up for mothering anyone!’

The door flew open, and Sanggyun pushed Byungjoo – bright in colours and winded – inside, coming immediately after him and slamming the door shut.

‘There we are,’ he announced. ‘I gotta fetch another uniform. I’ll take two, for Sangwonie too. How are you, Hojoon?’

Hojoon nodded, smiling a little.

‘I’ll be alright,’ he said. ‘Hey Byungjoo.’

‘Hey,’ Sehyuk said, quickly.

‘Hey-hey,’ Byungjoo replied, looking around, running his hand through his magenta hair.

‘I’ll be back,’ Sanggyun informed and slipped out.

Sehyuk looked up at Byungjoo. He was dressed in ripped jeans and an oversized tee , revealing his body, covered in scars and bruises. Byungjoo’s body, the vessel of his insecurities, was always the first one to get hate when he was feeling down, and, examining the scars, Sehyuk wondered if all of them were got in fights.

‘He’s so easy about it,’ Byungjoo remarked, watching the door as it closed behind Sanggyun.

‘It’s fairly easy to do anything around here,’ Sehyuk remarked, feeling bad little goosebumps appear on his skin at the sight of Byungjoo’s skin, but unable to look away. ‘The workers don’t really work, they just look into their screens and pay no attention.’

‘Wow.’

Byungjoo noticed the piercing stare and sat down, pulling his tee up on his shoulders and covering his knees with his hands. He looked away, seemingly ashamed.

‘You’ve been through a lot in this universe, huh,’ Sehyuk remarked, half-questioningly.

‘Well, sort of,’ Byungjoo replied, moving his shoulders uneasily. ‘Don’t… stare, okay?’

Sehyuk bit his lower lip, immediately feeling guilty.

‘Sorry,’ he said, looking to the side.

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Byungjoo said, raising his chin, but still not looking at him. ‘How are you, Hojoonie?’

‘Gonna be alright,’ Hojoon replied. ‘The guys got me the painkillers I needed. It’s already getting better.’

Byungjoo smiled at Hojoon, so childishly and openly. Sehyuk felt his heart sting.

‘Come here,’ he invited, tapping the spot beside himself.

‘We’ll have to get up soon anyway,’ Byungjoo shrugged.

‘Well, for a little bit.’

He met Byungjoo’s gaze, uncertain, but in a moment he smiled, rose, and landed at Sehyuk’s other side, leaning onto him. His bones were heavy, and Sehyuk felt his weight, and it calmed him down a little.

* * *

Sangwon was taking a while. Sehyuk couldn’t keep looking at his screen, he was nervous to the point. He distracted Hojoon, Byungjoo and Sanggyun with little meaningless talk, but none could keep it up, and they quickly fell silent. Hojoon suggested to play a simple game to ensure he doesn’t fall asleep, the others joined in, and Sehyuk was only beginning to get the hang of the controls – fingers and eyes – when his temple itched, and he instinctively reached his hand up to scratch.

‘What’s wrong?’ Hojoon called quietly, but Sehyuk just waved his hand at him. Hansol’s face appeared in front of him.

He noticed at once that something was wrong. Hansol looked concerned and serious.

‘Sehyukie, we got trouble,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m in Sangdo’s personal room right now. The command to release the gas has just come in, and I know Sangwonie is still out there. We’re prepping for the fight. You should keep up your guard, too.’

‘Oh goodness...’ Sehyuk exhaled, feeling the fuzzy blackness creep on from the edges of his field of vision. ‘How long is it till Sangwon arrives?’

‘About ten minutes,’ Hansol replied. ‘We’ll delay as well as we can. As soon as Sangwon arrives, you should knock everything off and hurry to us, alright?’

Sehyuk nodded.

‘Yes. Yes, fine.

‘Call Jiho. Tell him it’s his time. He knows his job and how he can help us.’

Sehyuk nodded again.

‘Yes. Yes, good. I’ll do that right now.’

‘Sehyuk.’

Hansol licked his lips and sighed.

‘Huh?’ Sehyuk encouraged softly.

‘Take care, you guys,’ Hansol said, looking away. His eyes sparkled. ‘Take care of Hojoon. Get here safe.’

‘You too,’ Sehyuk said, sincerely. ‘Hush, hush. Don’t cry. We’ll be fine.’

Hansol nodded, but his nose reddened.

‘Hanging up,’ he gurgled, and disappeared. Sehyuk swiped his screen off with his eyes and finally met Hojoon’s, Byungjoo’s, and Sanggyun’s stares.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sanggyun asked, quietly.

‘The main plot twist is about to strike,’ Sehyuk replied. ‘The... gas has to be released now, and Sangdo is working… working. I need to call Jiho to protect them.’

‘The gas?’ Byungjoo frowned.

‘The main plot twist this time is to kill everyone at once,’ Sehyuk said, looking away. ‘Sangwon is still not here, and the order is already given out. And I still need to call Jiho for help.’

Byungjoo covered his mouth with his hands.

‘Who’s Jiho in this universe?’ Sanggyun whispered.

‘He watches cameras,’ Sehyuk explained quickly. Sanggyun frowned, not understanding.

‘There’s no time for that. Hurry up,’ Hojoon reminded.

Sehyuk nodded quickly, sending him a grateful glance. He touched his temple and found Jiho’s code. Then, he dialled and waited. The wait was painfully long.

‘Hello?’

‘Jiho, hey.’

‘Oh goodness, man,’ Jiho raised his eyebrows. ‘Finally.’

‘I called as soon as I found out,’ Sehyuk felt the need to justify himself. Jiho pressed up his lips.

‘Hm?’

‘The order for the main plot twist has just been given.’

‘And?..’

‘Have you noticed Sangdo is… _delaying_?’

Jiho seemed restrained, unusually brief, and Sehyuk, anxious and jumpy, got annoyed at once.

‘Yes, I did. I know what I have to do,’ Jiho said, in a low voice. ‘I’m at work, Sehyuk.’

At work. Surrounded by careful and watchful guards – quite unlike the lazy, arrogant corpse recylers.  _You mustn’t raise any suspicions._ He felt guilty.

‘I’m sorry, Jiho. We’re meeting in the toilet beside Sangdo’s room,’ he said, trying to sound soothing, but only managed the apologetic tone.

Jiho smiled slightly.

‘It’s okay, I promise. You can rely on me.’

He said it so simply Sehyuk felt tight in the throat.

‘I know,’ he said, quietly.

‘Good luck,’ Jiho said, and disappeared.

Sehyuk dismissed the screen and looked at the guys sitting in front of him, watching and waiting.

‘Is there a plan?’ Byungjoo asked unsurely.

‘Well, for now waiting for Sangwon,’ Sehyuk said, and he couldn’t help but sound anxious and helpless.

Sanggyun knitted his eyebrows.

‘Look, I know what we should do,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll write that to chat, alright? I don’t know why no one thought of that before.’

Sehyuk looked at the others and shrugged. All nodded.

‘I’ll make a group chat,’ Sanggyun said busily. Sehyuk touched his right temple and found the chat. In a moment, Sanggyun created a group and started typing. The first message wasn’t long to appear.

**Sanggyun69054: When Sangwon comes, I go alone and receive him and mask him, and you three wait for me here.**

Sehyuk nodded to himself, admitting the plan good. Sanggyun continued typing.

**Sanggyun69054: As soon as I come back, you see me and you rise, and we just leave. Don’t say a word. We just go all together, in five, in uniforms.**

Sehyuk frowned, remembering how to type.

**Sehyuk51950: Won’t uniforms raise suspicions** **outside** **?**

**Sanggyun69054: There’s a toilet a little down the corridor, we go there and change.**

**Hojoon72056: Sounds like a plan. Does anyone know where we should go?**

**Sanggyun69054: I do. The main field technician’s room, right?’**

**Sehyuk51950: Yeah.**

**Sanggyun69054: I’ve been around there. If nothing else, every floor has a map beside the elevator that you can activate.**

Sehyuk raised his eyebrows.

**Sehyuk51950: Really?! I’ve been gong around asking people to help in an old fashioned way! Why hasn’t anyone told me?????**

**Hojoon72056: My bad. I didn’t know that tbh.**

**Byungjoo52804: This must be new.**

A loud, demanding voice interrupted their conversation:

‘A stiff at U-56, anyone?’

‘What?!’ someone called back.

‘A stiff at U-56!’

Sanggyun gave a long sigh.

‘I’ll go.’

‘Okay.’

Sehyuk dismissed his screen and looked at the others. Sanggyun rose lightly and sent them all a little smile.

‘Be right back,’ he said, turned and left.

* * *

‘Hurry up, hey!’

‘My leg is stuck, just a second, alright?!’

Sehyuk huffed, clutching the smooth doorknob. Sangwon was taking the longest, and Hojoon was already starting to look tired.

‘Just a second. Okay, I’m done. Let’s go.’

Sanggyun pushed them all out of the way, stepping onto the white uniforms dropped on the floor – among them Sehyuk’s fashionable skirt was lying, tossed aside, - and stormed right out of the door Sehyuk had opened precautiously. Sehyuk gestured the others to follow, and waited until everyone went out. He cast the last glance at the white uniforms and the bright skirt, threw the door to close and followed Hojoon as the last one, keeping an eye out for him. Hojoon was stumbling a little, as if his feet were heavy.

Sanggyun led them through the corridors confidently, until they reached the elevator. All kept up steadily, even Hojoon, an Sehyuk got to breathe a little calm breath as they jammed into the glass cabin and rested against the walls as it moved up.

‘We’re going steady,’ Sanggyun said confidently.

‘We’re going to fight,’ Sehyuk reminded, rubbing his fingers together uneasily.

‘Maybe it’ll be calmer than you think,’ Byungjoo tried to reassure, unsurely.

‘I do hope so,’ Hojoon dropped, rubbing his eye, suppressing a yawn. The elevator stopped. ‘...guess it was in vain,’ Hojoon stated, looking up. The doors slid open and the noise splashed into their ears.

All Sehyuk saw at first was a swarm of the guards. The guys almost carried him out of the cabin, and he found himself in the midst of the fight, and he wasn’t ready. He looked around – and suddenly something hit him across the ankles, and he fell down face first.

‘Activate the weaponry, come on!’ a voice cried desperately.

Sehyuk grabbed his head instinctively. He suddenly realized what was going on, and he heard his heart beating like a drum in his ears. He saw long thin legs swinging up and down, and a bright green uniform, and a  grey dress flying around revealing smooth shins and thighs. There they were, he recognized them. He crouched up quickly and rose, knees soft, fists clenched, all his senses pricked up.

He rushed through the crowd towards the three in the middle. What looked like a swarm of the guards wasn’t actually so many – or maybe Sehyuk’s eyes refused to see more than maybe ten. A quick strike threw a guard down to the ground, and he saw Yooncheol, his face distorted in a grimace of  suppressed  pain, his eyes constantly moving.  His motions were precise and quick, but Sehyuk had guessed his chip was corrupted, fucking with his mind.

‘Yooncheolie, we came!’ he cried through the terrible sound of bodies hitting each other.

‘Jiho!’ Hansol cried in reply, instead of Yooncheol. ‘He isn’t here!’

Sehyuk frowned, turning around quickly to see anyone aiming at him. Briefly, he only noticed a thin, pale figure fall to the ground  \- Hojoon . His face, surprised, splashed blood around.

‘Hojoon!’

He rushed at him, but a guard grabbed him, and he kicked precisely – groin, grab the head, hit it on the knee, stomp over. He didn’t remember where he got that. A bright green shadow stormed past him, and he couldn’t help but look as Sangdo grabbed Hojoon from the ground, - easily, like a feather – and threw him onto his back. Hojoon, smearing blood all over the green uniform, grabbed at him for dear life.

‘The toilet!’ Sangdo shouted. ‘Come on!’

Sehyuk heard him well. He rushed against the guards, leaning away, not always successfully avoiding being hit – but he couldn’t even feel the pain, just bumps and  breaking skin and warm blood. He grabbed the knob on the door, kicking a guard interfering him in the teeth. He was the winner. He claimed their hideaway for them, and he felt nothing but overwhelming, red joy.

‘Guys, here!’ he cried, kicking back another guard – not that strongly, but he won himself some time to calculate the next move. He didn’t have to make it, though – someone grabbed the guy from behind, and as he fell down, Sehyuk noticed Sangwon. He opened the door and let him in, slamming it shut right behind his back.

‘Yooncheolie, come here! Here, Yooncheol!’ he heard Hansol’s voice, hysteric and desperate. He knew what was going on – he had expected it. He could see – Yooncheol, crazed with pain, barely hearing or seeing anything, all covered in blood, was writhing on the floor, barely resisting any more. Around him, the guards he had defeated were crawling back, trying to grab the ankles of their opponents.

Hansol raised his leg in a graceful kick, for a moment revealing  the leg in its entirety – strained and covered in blood, God knows whose. He rushed to Yooncheol, grabbed his collar and dragged him with some inhuman effort. Yooncheol kept kicking out, probably not hearing Hansol’s desperate cries.

At this moment, the elevator doors opened, and a single person clad in black ran out.

‘DON’T KILL ME!’ he roared, and it took Sehyuk a little while to recognize Jiho. His hair was a mess, his uniform ripped, burned and unzipped. He limped on his right leg: on his right shin there was a deep, wide, straight line of burned raw meat. It was like a movie scene, and Sehyuk barely registered tears streaming down his face. Hansol jerked the door open, out of his hand, pushed Yooncheol inside, and stumbled after him. Sehyuk noticed his face, red and wet with tears.

‘Jiho!’ Byungjoo exclaimed.

Jiho tripped over a guard and fell with a loud sob. Byungjoo and Sanggyun rushed to help him rise, when Sangdo’s voice sounded over the corridor, loud and powerful:

‘Down, everyone!’

That voice left them no choice but to obey. The next moment, a fiery ray pierced through the air – and died, as Sangdo kicked the blaster out of the guard’s hand and away, stepping on his fingers. He adjusted limp Hojoon on his back and turned  slightly  – a depiction of a hero.

‘Everyone, to the toilet!’

‘They’re after me!’ Jiho called, rising with Byungjoo’s help. ‘They turned on the weapons. Hurry!’

Sanggyun and Byungjoo almost carried Jiho to the toilet when the top of the elevator cabin, filled to the brim with guards clad in black, appeared in sight.

‘Sangdo, come on!’ Sehyuk called, and Sangdo rushed inside.

As the elevator doors began to slide open, Sehyuk slipped into the toilet, the last one  to come .

The burning ray pierced the air and cut off the sole of his shoe, by miracle not reaching his foot.

* * *

He turned the knob, locking the door, and felt strong hands drag him away.

‘Stay away from the door!’ Jiho breathed loudly into his ear. ‘They won’t break it at once, it’s strong, but better be prepared!’

‘Do you have anything here to barricade that door?!’ Sangwon exclaimed, rummaging around the perfectly clean sinks.

‘Nothing,’ Sangdo called from where he was holding Hojoon upright. ‘Nothing here.’ He turned to Sehyuk. ‘Come on, give us the sleeping pills.’

The door trembled under the hits. Sehyuk reached into his pocket – the sleeping pills were there. He fished them out with trembling fingers and started giving them out.

‘Won’t we be all killed anyway?’ he rustled.

No one replied. He was starting to feel the load of exhausting pain in his entire body. He didn’t even look at anyone. He barely registered Hansol cooing over Yooncheol, who was replying something through hisses of pain. The hands held out all disappeared. He took a pill and swallowed it dry – but he didn’t even need it. Everything swirled around him. He heard a loud sound about the door, but he didn’t know what happened next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is taking so long, you guys! But I'm putting a lot of heart into this, and I'm doing my best with the writing, so I hope it's worth the wait.


	4. Sanggyun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanggyun's bust here (especially proud of him so far):  
> http://tom-failure.tumblr.com/post/164225497563/take-me-away-take-me-away-from-here-hero-number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We found this water’s deeper than  
> We guessed…
> 
> Jason Webley – Ways to Love

_I betrayed us both!_

_No! I didn’t sign up to mothering anyone!_

Sanggyun opened his eyes wide and stared into the clear blueness overhead. The words, unfamiliar and loud, sounded in his head, but he didn’t remember the voice. The dream was fading quickly, and as much as Sanggyun grasped at it to keep it for a moment longer, it dissolved. Just the words remained, bright and crisp.

_Whom did you betray? Who are you?_

He stared blankly in front of himself, trying to put together what was going on. The environment didn’t look like the dorm room at all. It was bright here, bright and blue and golden, and – cold. Sanggyun blinked a few times and remembered .  He flipped through two stories in two blinks of his eyes, and remembered himself, his personality returned to him.

He had been a bratty student with a broken leg.

He had been an irritable corpse recycler with cynical humour.

Who was he now?

_I’m the hero of the day._

He repeated the words in his head, then mouthed them soundlessly, savouring them and letting them sink in. The idea of being a hero went well with Sanggyun.

_Being completely honest, I AM a hero, –_ he thought.  _Who else could make a good hero, if not me?_

He had his own ideas of what was good. The outcome of the previous universe didn’t seem good to him at all. He reached up to touch his face, and recalled, in blur, the way a guard in a narrow corridor had broken his nose, and how heavy his body was, filled to the brim with pain, droning and leaden…

He winced.  _Sehyuk just couldn’t do it right. He’s not the type of person. I won’t let this kind of thing happen_ . He rubbed his eyes and looked around.

The bright blue overhead turned out to be a heavy canopy over a huge bed, in which he was alone under soft covers. He was so tiny there it felt strange, but pleasant. _This is probably how Hojoon and Hansol feel, -_ he thought, smiling to himself and turning his head, \- _they’re always this tiny_. To his left were two tall windows, narrow and pointy. To his right was a door, bright turquoise against the red brick of the walls, partially covered with colourful rugs. The ceiling was lost up there somewhere, from under his canopy Sanggyun couldn’t see it.

_So I guess I’m some kind of an aristocrat?_

He couldn’t help but smirk slightly. That went well with him, too. He sat up on the bed and found himself in a long white shirt. The feeling of the fabrics against his skin was nice, but his body was getting cold quickly, so he figured it better to snuggle up under the covers.

A knock on the door was quiet and somehow questioning.

‘Come in!’ Sanggyun called, without a second’s hesitation.

The big door opened slowly, and a small figure slipped in – a young boy, younger than Sanggyun, dressed as a servant, much like those in Disney cartoons. His dark curls framed  the  narrow oval of his face.

‘Your highness is awake,’ he said with a bow, smiling happily. ‘Good morning, sweet prince.’

_A prince!_ Sanggyun narrowed his eyes.  _What do I know about princes?_ The setting didn’t remind him of Korea at all, and he had quite a vague image of European princes.

‘Very good,’ he replied, smiling slightly, inclining his head to the side and suppressing the urge to bow slightly in response. _Stop feeling obliged to your servants._ _He’s doing his job._

‘Would my prince like to get dressed already, or would he prefer to stay in bed a while more?’

The boy’s perfect smile revealed a row of teeth, too white to exist in the time of castles, princes, and pointy windows. Sanggyun looked down. The big bed was warm and tempting, but the crisp words were ringing in his head. He had only a day ahead to be the hero. He sighed.

‘No, I’m getting up.’

The boy bowed again.

‘I brought your clothes, your highness. Your favourite costume, I believe.’

Sanggyun nodded absentmindedly, slipped to the side of the bed and dropped his feet to the soft carpet on the floor. It felt so tender against his skin, but he shivered – the air was chilly and unpleasantly wet.

‘Isn’t it a little cold here, your highness?’ the boy’s voice sounded over his ear.

‘It is,’ Sanggyun nodded, glancing up. The servant was leaning over him, his perfect smile still shining.

‘Oh, stupid me, I should have warmed it up right away!’

The boy slapped his forehead with his both hands, turned sharply on his heels and headed right off to the big hearth that Sanggyun hadn’t noticed before. He opened a little sack hanging from his belt, reached into it and pulled out a handful of something sparkling and golden. It was spilling between his fingers right back into the sack. The boy raised his hand and threw the sparkles into the hearth.

‘Agn!’ he commanded. In a moment, the hearth filled with fire, and Sanggyun felt instantly warmer. Not like he noticed it anyway, as his mouth fell open and he froze where he was sitting.

The boy saw his amazed stare, turning back to him and smiling widely as he tied the sack again.

‘I know, your highness,’ he said, his voice sweet and satisfied. ‘Even I am amazed every time I use this powder. It is so incredibly beautiful. But let us get you dressed, shall we?’

Sanggyun nodded absently, standing up and letting the boy pull off his nightgown to get down to dressing him.

_So I’m not a real prince. More like, a fairy-tale prince. Magic and all that jazz, huh! This is going to be interesting..._

He didn’t notice when he started pulling his clothes right out of the boy’s hands to put them on, earning himself a surprised stare. He glanced to his servant and stopped halfway in buttoning up a dark green shirt.

‘Do not be like this, your highness,’ the boy said, taking the shirt from Sanggyun’s hands. ‘I understand that you are impatient to see your dragon and your warriors, but please, why should a prince dress himself when he’s safe and there’s no need for him to? Why hurry? It’s a pleasure for me to do that for you – it’s a pleasure for us all to serve a prince like you.’

It took Sanggyun a few seconds to process what was said. The boy’s speech wasn’t medieval per se, but it was lengthy, heavyweight and somehow too eloquent, and Sanggyun, used to speaking quickly, omitting even traditional politeness, had a little trouble keeping up.

‘Yeah, please, do what you have to,’ he said, trying his best to sound noble and old-fashioned, but failing miserably. The boy bowed slightly and continued buttoning Sanggyun’s shirt all the way down, to where it ended slightly under his knees.

Sanggyun tried his best to look calm, but his thoughts were rushing.  _My dragon? My warriors?! What do I even need to do here?_

‘So my dragon, right?’ he said aloud, stepping into dark turquoise trousers held in front of him.

‘Yes, your highness. The latest one to be caught, the youngest and the fastest! You were so eager to see him yesterday, I’m almost sorry we persuaded you to wait till morning. I would love to ride such a dragon one day! But I was never taught to ride dragons...’ he sighed. ‘I’m sorry I’m so talkative today, your highness. If you want me to stop talking, I will do that gladly.’

_Don’t you dare,_ \- Sanggyun thought. -  _You will have to provide me with all the info you know now._

‘No-no,’ he said aloud. ‘Go on. It’s nice talking to people. Nice to know what they think.’

The boy smiled up at him from where he was kneeling down, buttoning up his trousers.

‘Your highness is always so kind. Where did we all deserve a gem like you?’

Sanggyun smiled wearily, and couldn’t help but sigh.  _I don’t think anyone has ever told me that, y’know…_

‘Anyway, what do you think about my dragon?’ he interrupted his own train of thoughts. _Get your shit together, Tom. You have stuff to do here._

The boy smiled dreamily, taking a fancy golden tunic, heavily draped and embroidered with black and green.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ he said, coming around Sanggyun and stopping behind him. Sanggyun held his arms back automatically. ‘His crimson scales shine so brightly in the sun. He is the most beautiful fire dragon I’ve ever seen!’ He slipped Sanggyun’s one arm into the sleeve, then the other. Then, he pushed the tunic onto his back and his warm breath touched Sanggyun’s ear: ‘I’m glad they keep his jaws locked shut, so that he cannot damage my prince, but it would be so awesome to see his fire pouring out of his mouth.’

Sanggyun swallowed hard.  _I’ll have to deal with a fiery dragon, -_ he thought, feeling his heart sink somewhere to his abdomen.  _Well, okay, fine then!_

‘My prince is so brave to not be terrified of the dragons,’ the boy said softly, walking over Sanggyun to tie a beautiful belt a little higher over his waist. Its buckle was shining gold and spangled with jewels, forming some unfamiliar emblem. ‘I’m scared of them even now, when they are all tamed, and their jaws are locked shut, to open only as wide as to eat, and the fire slits they have are all covered. They cannot roar, and their legs are restrained – and yet still I am scared to even approach them. My prince is so brave!’

He fixed the rim of his tunic and stood up to button the cuffs. Sanggyun smiled.

‘People like you deserve the best prince that can be.’

_Because you’re letting me in on the goings-on so kindly._

The boy smiled and bowed.

‘It’s an honour for me, my prince. Now sit down, please, and let me put on your shoes.’

Sanggyun sat down onto the bed. He expected the fabric to be coarse from embroidery and unpleasant, but it was soft and bent easily. The boy knelt down in front of him and put soft socks on his feet.

‘So what about my warriors?’ Sanggyun asked, watching his manipulations.

The boy smiled.

‘Oh, I promise this will be interesting for you, your highness. There was an encounter yesterday, and it was a stunning success. Your warriors are returning with gifts, but they would not tell anyone what they are bringing.’

He buttoned the boots under Sanggyun’s knees and stood up. Sanggyun followed suit, looking down at his dress, feeling strangely pleasant.

‘Now I only need to put on your headdress,’ the boy said. ‘It has been chosen to match your costume, my prince.’

‘A headdress?’ Sanggyun frowned.

The boy inclined his head to the side.

‘I know you don’t like them, your highness, but how else would people know to whom they should bow and in front of whom they should be the most respectful? Your clothes are fine, but the prince is not the only one to dress finely, while the headdress is your true regal.’

Sanggyun hemmed under his breath. The boy looked around and gasped.

‘Oh goodness, I forgot to take your headdress! Will you wait for me a little while, your highness?’

Sanggyun glanced around the room.

‘No, I’ll go with you.’

He was already feeling jumpy and eager to be the hero.

The boy bowed.

‘If you wish so.’

He opened the door and let Sanggyun out  and  into a big corridor, brightly lit by different coloured lights far up about the ceiling. It was long, and on both sides there were lots of doors, tall and pointed, just like the windows. The red brick was sparkling faintly. Sanggyun stopped in amazement. His gaze traced down from the lights overhead to the wonderful carpets, embroidered with elaborate ornaments, reminding both of complicated mazes and weird tropical flowers and birds.

‘Are you coming, your highness?’

Sanggyun shook his head and smiled up at the boy looking back at him from a little further down the corridor.

‘Yeah. Coming.’

He hurried, his steps just verging on running . The boy watched his quick pace as he proceeded along.

‘Your highness is so lively,’ he remarked. ‘So energetic. This is so common with young princes, but few carry it through to being noble kings. I would have loved to see a king this lively.’

Sanggyun raised his chin slightly.

‘Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m not going to die any time soon, and it’s not in my rules to betray myself.’

‘I trust what your highness says,’ the boy remarked, ‘but, if I may say, age changes people.’

Sanggyun scoffed.

‘How old are you?’

‘Seventeen, your highness,’ the boy replied, bowing a little.

_I’m twenty-one, and I’m not as much a bore-ass as you, -_ Sanggyun opened his mouth to say, and stopped, swallowing the words. In the first universe, he was eighteen the very most. Maybe this moralizer was older than him.

‘And how old am _I_?’ he said, pulling a wise face and trying his best not to crack up.

Maybe the servant thought him weird, but it didn’t reflect on his face anyhow.

‘You, your highness, are twenty, if this is of any...’ he trailed off. ‘Forgive me, I am forgetting my position...’

‘Oh, come on,’ Sanggyun scoffed. ‘It’s alright. You haven’t done anything criminal. You’re just pretending to be older than you are when you’re only seventeen. That’s pretty boring, if you ask me.’

The boy licked his lower lip uneasily.

‘Seventeen is not that young an age, your highness,’ he said, unsurely.

‘Oh, believe me, it is,’ Sanggyun waved his hand at him. ‘See, I’m twenty and I’m not acting like I’m one hundred. But don’t worry about it. Where are we going, exactly?’

‘We are there, my prince,’ the boy said, turning his back to Sanggyun. His head was lowered weirdly as he struggled to open the door. Sanggyun waited patiently. Finally the key turned in the lock and the boy stepped back to let Sanggyun into the room.

‘Please do come in,’ he said in a fallen voice.

Sanggyun glanced to him, puzzled, -  _what’s wrong with you?.. -_ but said nothing as he entered the room.

This one was filled to the brim with clothes of all sorts: sparkling with jewels and embroidery and matte, of all colours and fabrics. The boy behind his back dinged with something.

‘Here it is, your highness,’ he said quietly. ‘Let me put it on you.’

Sanggyun hemmed and turned to face him. The boy was holding a small horned crown – gold, without any precious stones or fabric. A little nose-piece was going down at the front. Sanggyun lowered his head to let him slip it on, then raised it to let him fasten it – wherever it fastened. It felt a little big for him. The boy  touched  something on his forehead, and in a moment the headdress no longer felt big. It sat tightly on Sanggyun’s head, pressing his wiry dark hair up.

‘All done, your highness,’ he said, mustering a smile, but it was nothing like his previous perfect ones.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sanggyun asked, following him back to the door. ‘What did I say?’

The boy sighed a little.

‘Will your highness forgive me for what I will say?’

Sanggyun shrugged.

‘Whatever it is, do say.’

‘I only wanted to say that seventeen years is not that young an age,’ the boy said quietly, not looking up at Sanggyun, locking the door. ‘I don’t mean to offend your highness, but the simple people have to grow up earlier than those who live in the beautiful rooms in castles. There are exceptions, certainly, and this is not meant to say you are any bad, you are wonderful, your highness. But I...’ he sighed a little and stooped. He was so small walking down the corridor. ‘I have a load of things I have to be anxious about. There are things I have to be mindful about. There are way more than I wish to know, however I have to face them, your highness.’

Sanggyun pressed up his lips and looked away. He silenced the little nagging of shame, quickly growing out into annoyance.

‘Fine,’ he said aloud. ‘I understand where you’re coming from. Let’s not talk about it anymore.’

The boy nodded and sighed again. He opened a big door at the end of the corridor and let Sanggyun into the stairwell.

‘Going to see the dragon, aren’t we?’ Sanggyun asked, trying to sound calm.

‘We are,’ the boy replied, leading the way, and his voice was so little and sad Sanggyun felt guilty.

‘Hey, I can’t just go on when you are moping like this!’ he exclaimed, and cursed himself immediately. _You’re_ _a_ _prince, stupid!_

The boy stopped and turned to Sanggyun, looking at him with a strange expression from a few stairs up. Slowly, slowly, his face formed a smile – little but sincere.

‘Oh, your highness is so kind,’ he said quietly, voice trembling. ‘Thank you.’

Sanggyun shrugged, perplexed.

‘Forgive me,’ the boy said heartily, stepping down. ‘I made your highness feel bad, and I promise I did not mean it. I...’

Sanggyun shook his head and raised his hand, silencing him.

‘Enough,’ he said, smiling. ‘Bring me to the dragon, alright?’

The boy nodded eagerly and hurried up the stairs. Sanggyun skipped after him, feeling immediately eased.

* * *

The roof of the tower was wide and round. There was an insane view of the clear blue sky in all directions, a few other towers rising higher and the broad land visible deep down – some buildings  and streets, the city wall, and then mountains, plains and rivers, and cities and fortresses far apart from each other, getting lost in the sky about the horizon. The only thing obstructing the view of this paradise of a world was a huge red mountain right in front of them. As Sanggyun, fascinated, took a few steps froward, it moved and raised a huge head on a long neck to stare at him with a dozen of terrifying yellow eyes.

‘There he is, your highness!’ the boy called from behind his back. ‘I am too frightened to come closer!’

_Fucked if I’m not, -_ flashed in Sanggyun’s head. He stared at the dragon, paralyzed. It was enormous, covered in shiny red scales, clicking and ringing as he moved. He had six legs reminding those of birds, but much bigger, and seeing the sharp brown claws made Sanggyun swallow hard. His snout didn’t look like those of dragons in the books or cartoons – it looked as if it had been human once, but the scales and the eyes covered the skin, the nose grew almost flat, and the teeth protruded from the mouth making it distorted and unrecognizable. His long ears were raised a little and tensed. He was majestic and terrifying – but he was bound, laced entirely in leather and metal, and something else, glowing and probably magic. At the base of his neck was a saddle, and a ladder was attached to it, swinging slightly. Reins were hanging from the corners of  his  mouth, tied to the saddle, restraining his neck. At the base of his head, semi-transparent glowing plates were covering thin fiery slits in his skin. In between each pair of legs, he had thin metallic rods ending in cuffs – just long enough for him to be able to lie down. The tail, long and scalloped, was bent and its end was tied down to the dragon’s back. He could hardly move, and the stare of his many eyes was expressionless.

‘Your highness!’

Sanggyun turned, making an effort to look away from the majestic creature.

‘If you are wondering, the hunters didn’t cut off his wings! By your wish, they do not do it any more. Come, I will give you something to feed him.’

Sanggyun looked over his shoulder at the strained dragon, watching his back with his many eyes. The servant was waving at him from the other side of the platform, from beside a big chest. He fished a few huge pieces of meat out of it, holding them with both hands and piling them up on the floor. He smiled up at Sanggyun as he closed the lid and found a cloth nearby to wipe his hands.

‘I shall part now, my prince. When your general and your warriors come, I shall let your highness know. But you should not hurry. Do what you wish, everything and everyone can wait for you. I just dare say it is of interest.’

Sanggyun nodded.  _Talk simpler, God damn you, I’m not keeping up._

He took a lump of meat and weighed it in his arms. It was heavy. He followed the leaving servant with his stare, chewing on his lips. He wasn’t too eager to feed the many-eyed creature behind his back – he could hear it breathing, its claws clicking against the brick and its scales dinging slightly against each other.

_Get your shit together, Tom._

He took a deep breath and turned round at 180 degrees. It took him another breath to look up. He met a careful, unmoving stare of a dozen yellow eyes over a toothy grin. The dragon shifted on his feet ever so slightly – click, click, click. Sanggyun breathed in again, deeper, and held to step forward.

There was a little click of the heel as his foot hit the ground. The dragon never moved, watching him, eyes blinking chaotically. Sanggyun could only hear his own heart racing in his ears. He raised the lump of meat up, looking straight at the dragon to hide his fear and claim the territory for himself.

The beast lashed forward, and Sanggyun’s heart fell deep, deep down. He shut his eyes and drew his head into his shoulders, expecting pain – but only heard loud clanking of metal, and an even louder growl. He dared peek between the eyelids – and he saw the dragon backing off, shaking his head, his ears slapping against his neck. Golden blood was dripping from the corners of his mouth, where the bit had ripped through the skin. The dragon shook himself and lashed forward again – but the resistance of the ties stopped his motion abruptly, forcing another growl out of his throat. The dragon stepped back, and back again, and gave a pained, human sob.

Sanggyun felt almost triumphant. He clutched at the lump of meat, jumped towards the dragon, and again, threw the meat at him – and ran back for dear life. He heard the dragon lash against the restraints once more, and then he heard the unmistakable sounds of chewing. He didn’t want to look at that. He ran up to the chest and took another piece of meat.

The dragon was eating quickly – not unusual, given how big he was. Sanggyun stopped hesitantly on the edge of his zone of reach, watching him. The dragon  turned,  lowered his head and took a step at him. It took Sanggyun a lot not to flee immediately. The stare of the many eyes gained expression – and it was that of hatred. Being hated by such a creature  was  anything but comforting.

The dragon took another step forward. Sanggyun felt weak in the knees. He focused on the dragon’s feet – he walked, moving each pair quickly in turn. It looked unsettling. Another clicking step. The dragon was inching closer. Sanggyun locked his stare with his, and stood unmoving, paralyzed with fear.

The dragon stopped. He looked at Sanggyun and moved his snout to the side in  an  almost human way. Sanggyun frowned.  _What do you want, bitch?_

The dragon huffed loudly. He stretched his neck carefully and pointed at the meat with the tip of his nose, looking back at Sanggyun with his many eyes. He looked slightly like a domestic cat demanding food. His long ears, covered with smooth skin, were aligned with his neck, and he looked – _what the hell? -_ annoyed. For a moment Sanggyun felt stupid. _С_ _ome what may, –_ he stepped forward, holding the piece of meat in front of himself, and squeezed his eyes shut.

A tug – and his hands were free. The chewing sound reached his ears. Sanggyun opened his eyes and saw, satisfied, that the dragon was eating, only glancing at him now and then with a few of his eyes. Encouraged, he hurried off again to take another piece of meat.

This time around he didn’t close his eyes. He watched carefully as the dragon opened his mouth as wide as he could and turned his head to take the meat. As he got down to eating, Sanggyun gathered up some courage and stepped closer. He admired the smooth red scales, shiny and translucent, and the long soft ears, slightly tensed, and the three horns on the dragon’s head, and his sharp teeth. With a little hesitation he raised his hand and reached out to touch.

The dragon gave a loud warning huff. All of his eyes were immediately on Sanggyun’s hand. He tensed up, raising his head slightly, and froze.

‘Oh come on,’ Sanggyun muttered, glancing uneasily at his teeth. The dragon moved away and turned his snout to face Sanggyun, giving another loud huff. He didn’t want to be touched. Sanggyun pulled a face. The dragon was as annoying as cats were, except he was much, _much_ bigger. Vexed, he turned away and headed off to the door to the stairwell, stomping loudly. At the door he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

‘ _Fuck you!_ ’ he said loudly, and raised his middle finger at the dragon, who didn’t spare him as much as a look. Then, he went inside, and slammed the door shut.

* * *

The servant – that same familiar one, - met him at the bottom of the stairs, a little winded.

‘My prince!’ he exclaimed, extending his arms towards Sanggyun. ‘Please, wait a moment!’

Sanggyun stepped down the last step of stairs and stopped, waiting. The boy ran up to him and stopped,  too , shifting on his feet impatiently.

‘Your warriors have just arrived, your highness. The general is waiting with a trophy, and he is certain you shall like it!’

His smile was bright and beaming. Sanggyun couldn’t help but reflect it.

‘Yeah, let’s go,’ he nodded, following the boy who invited him on with a gesture and a bow.

The Audience room, or rather a hall,  Sanggyun decided , was huge and brightly lit. The pointy windows were taller here, and a little wider. At the slightly rounded triangular tops  there were stained-glass inserts, casting rays of colourful light down to the floor. At the further end of the room was a throne, at which the servant pointed, bowing again.

‘Please, sit down, your highness,’ he said.

Sanggyun nodded absently and headed towards the throne, looking around in wonder, admiring the carpets and paintings on the walls. He walked up the three steps towards the throne and sat down onto it, adjusting. It wasn’t really comfortable, the seat was hard and short, but he reminded himself not to raise any suspicions.  _I have to play along._

‘Should I invite your general in?’ the boy asked, coming up to another, smaller, door in the wall to Sanggyun’s left.

‘Yes, do,’ Sanggyun hurried.

The boy nodded obediently and grabbed the knob of the door. It took him quite and effort to open it. Sanggyun had to suppress the urge to jump up and help him. The boy dragged the door slowly, until finally it was wide open. Sanggyun watched i n a little surprise as a dozen people clad in armours walked in, clanging and ringing with every step they made.

‘Stop!’ the heading man commanded as he reached Sanggyun’s throne. His voice sounded hollow from under a metal mouth-piece. ‘Turn! Greet your prince!’

And he got down on one knee, showing the example. All the others followed suit. Sanggyun couldn’t help but smile a little, watching it all like a play. He felt a little uneasy having so many people bowing in front of him, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it at all.

‘Long live the prince,’ the head – the general, Sanggyun assumed – said, rising and unlocking his mouth-piece. ‘I hope your days are calm, safe and peaceful, your highness.’

‘So they are,’ Sanggyun replied, squinting. The general’s voice sounded familiar as he took off his mouth-piece. ‘I’ve been told your latest encounter was a success.’

‘And a stunning one,’ the general bowed slightly and reached his hands up to his helmet. ‘I have a fresh new scar on me, and I’m proud to say it was got in a fight for my prince.’

With these words, he took his helmet off, spilling dark hair almost down to his shoulders and revealing a smiling, wide and round face, boasting a freshly-healed red wound across the cheek. Sangwon…

From the look on his face, as he  stared into his eyes proudly, Sanggyun guessed Sangwon was already fetched. He winked and brought his finger to his lips sneakily. Sanggyun nodded slightly, smiling involuntarily.

‘Would your highness like me to bring in my present?’ Sangwon asked, nodding quickly at Sanggyun – _say yes._

‘Yes, please do,’ Sanggyun nodded, squinting again. _What do you have?_

‘Bring in the trophy!’ Sangwon commanded, turning to the warriors. His voice rang metal, and Sanggyun wondered quietly.

Another pair of warriors appeared at the door –  _how many more are there?_ They convoyed a man clad in an armour of another style, differing from theirs. The metal was of a warmer colour, and his whole silhouette more roundish against the pointy details on the shoulders, heads and legs of Sangwon’s warriors. His head was covered by a solid metal piece, reminding of a bell jar.

‘Is this your present?’ Sanggyun asked, confused.

‘This, your highness, is the youngest and most beautiful warrior of our enemy,’ Sangwon replied, pulling on a serious face. ’We thought you would like to have him all for yourself. Just look at him!’ He turned his head to the guards and commanded: ‘Reveal the face!’

One of the warriors took the ‘bell jar’ on the hostage’s head with his both hands and raised it, revealing a face, half-covered with unruly white curls. The man shook his head, grunting like a horse, and raised his face – and Sanggyun met Jiho’s stern, hateful gaze. He was wide, sturdy, and albino, but Sanggyun knew at once it was him.

‘Oh, I see…’ he drawled, smiling wider.

Jiho’s expression dropped. He frowned and sent Sanggyun a perplexed look.  _What the fuck? -_ he said with his only expression, and Sanggyun tried his best not to laugh.

‘Your present is awesome, general,’ he said, looking to Sangwon, smiling from ear to ear. ‘Now, I would like you all to leave me alone with my present and the general. I’m certain there are things these great warriors have to tell me.’

The servant pushed the door to close, slowly, straining with effort. Either it was heavier than the other doors in the castle, or it was just stuck.

‘If the great warriors please, I shall lead you to your rooms,’ he said, winded, opening the main door, - much easier, - and bowing.

Sanggyun watched as they all left, one by one, in a steady pace. After the last one was in the corridor, the servant turned to Sanggyun, bowed lowly and bid his goodbye, closing the door after him.

As soon as it clicked in the frame, Sanggyun jumped to his feet and  rushed  off the stairs to grab Sangwon.

‘He-ey, Highness!’ Sangwon laughed, clanging with his armour as he raised his arms to close them around Sanggyun carefully. ‘Hush, hush. I still have to undress, or this ironmongery will kill you. Look at you, all royal and stuff!’

‘The present?! Me?! Seriously???!!!’ Jiho’s voice sounded over Sanggyun’s ear, and Sanggyun felt his cheek pressed closer, and more unpleasant, against the pointy metal of Sangwon’s armour. For a moment, he felt claustrophobic, squished in between two hard bodies of shells and chainmail, but Jiho released immediately, and Sangwon stepped back. Sanggyun looked at them and felt at home.

‘So, the prince, huh?’ Sangwon said, unfastening the top shells and dropping them to the floor with a heavy clang. ‘How does it feel being royalty, Tommy?’

Sanggyun pulled a face.

‘Not all that different from being me. Everyone feels like they have to tell you you have to grow up. Even your servants.’

‘You could behead them for that, you know,’ Jiho pointed out, unfastening his own shells.

Sanggyun waved his hand at him.

‘Oh, I wouldn’t want that. Nothing fun in it. On the bright side, I have a dragon.’

Jiho’s eyes alit.

‘A dragon?! Like, a real dragon?!’

Sanggyun nodded, satisfied at Jiho’s excitement.

‘Real as fuck. And just as scary. They say it – he – breathes fire, but I wouldn’t know. They bind them here like some fucking shibari…’

Sangwon shook his head.

‘That’s a necessity, you know. The fire dragons are fucking aggressive.’

Jiho nodded quickly.

‘Well, at least they have cute ears,’ Sanggyun shrugged. ‘I fed mine, and he was alrighty.’

‘That’s temporary,’ Jiho sighed. ‘But, well, we will have to cooperate with your fiery guy.’

He didn’t sound quite regretful.

‘How so?’ Sanggyun glanced to him, feeling vague uneasiness begin to stir in his stomach.

Jiho sighed.

‘Well, there is a long story I have to tell you to explain.’

‘Do tell,’ Sanggyun hurried.

Jiho nodded.

‘Of course I will, because this is important.’

‘Maybe we should better sit down?’ Sangwon suggested, accepting his own suggestion and sitting down first on the carpet-covered steps to Sanggyun’s throne.

‘Good idea,’ Sanggyun nodded, sitting a little further aside to let Jiho place in the middle. Jiho moved them both a little further to the sides as he lowered, and Sanggyun wondered at how wide he seemed in this universe.

_Maybe it’s just his armour…_

‘Well, the things is, my country here is at shit,’ Jiho said, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Your guys, Highness, led by Sangwonie, are a little bit of a pain in the ass. Your mom, the Queen, wants to expand her sphere of authority with our lands, which just happen to lie close to the biggest river in both of our countries.’

Sanggyun looked down.

‘Whoops.’

‘Well, but that’s the smaller problem,’ Jiho brushed him off. ‘The bigger one is, well, _much_ bigger. At the bottom of the sea awoke the Old Evil, and it’s just a matter of time until my country is wiped clear off the face of the earth.’

Sangwon frowned.

‘What old evil? I never knew.’

‘You wouldn’t, you’re just a soldier,’ Jiho sighed. ‘Well, a _general,_ but you’re not royalty. The presence of the Evil is kept secret over here, and everyone trying to escape from our country to spread the word is brutally killed – if not by the evil itself, then by your warriors, Sanggyunie. The Queen has her plans on those lands, and she thinks she can defeat the monster. Little does she know...’

‘Is it that difficult in this fairytale land?’ Sanggyun asked. ‘Couldn’t be, right?’

Jiho gave a short laugh.

‘See, it’s kind of different. This Evil isn’t even material. It’s just a, how to say that, great dark matter full of eyes and hands. But people who approach it die at once. Its aim is to become almighty and conquer the world, and I don’t wanna say it, but it very much can achieve that very soon..’

‘How?’ Sangwon asked, frowning, voice trembling ever so slightly.

Jiho  huffed .

‘According to a legend that everyone knows in my country – Dallia, that is, - well, according to the legend, to become almighty and ensure the Armageddon, the Evil has to live off the lifeblood of the Son of Moon for forty days in a row.’

‘And?..’ Sanggyun squinted.

‘Son of Moon is the prince of my country, Yu Sangdo,’ Jiho said with a shrug. ‘And the monster took him, and has been eating him for, like, a month now. _Lifeblood_ means that he must be alive till the end of the streak, but our time is running out.’

Silence fell.

‘But there is a brighter side to this all,’ Jiho continued, his voice even. ‘The prince’s lover and faithful knight ventured out to save him the very day he was taken. The _being_ hid the prince somewhere, but the knight is wise, and he knows kings of all kinds of magic and non-magic peoples, and he knows ways with a lot of creatures of these lands. The wise men say he’s bound to succeed – at least in finding the prince, although hardly in killing the monster. And I think we should join him, and not only because he could be of use in finding Sangdo and the rest, but also because his name is Hojoon.’

Sangwon puffed with laughter.

‘Hojoon? Sangdo’s lover?’

Sanggyun chuckled in response.  Jiho nodded.

‘Yeah. And, if you ask me, I doubt that we should fetch Hojoon, at least until he saves Sangdo.’

Sanggyun’s smile fell and he frowned.

‘What do you even mean?’

‘There is a falling out between them,’ Jiho sighed, looking down. ‘I have no idea what the matter is, but they seem worlds apart, and while Sangdo seems willing to make up, Hojoon is weird.’

He lowered his head, and his  concerned  face hid behind white locks. Sangwon nodded understandingly and chewed on his lips.

‘Well, if my theory is right, then, on the contrary, we should fetch him as quick as possible,’ he said, thoughtfully.

‘What theory?’ Sanggyun demanded, getting annoyed already. _How come I’m the last to know everything?!_

‘I think that our roles in these universes somehow reflect our doubts and worries in reality,’ Sangwon explained simply. ‘There have been quite a few proofs to it so far. And if Hojoon and Sangdo seem, as Jiho said, _worlds apart,_ then that’s probably why they’re literally so in this universe. But notice what,’ he raised his finger. ‘Hojoon is on his way to find Sangdo. Maybe things are better than we think.’

‘Last time, Sangdo carried him into safety on his back, what falling out?!’ Sanggyun slapped his legs. ‘What the fuck is going on, you guys?’

‘Fucked if I know,’ Jiho said, glancing to Sangwon. ‘But I think that Sangwonie’s theory just might be right. But enough. There is one thing I haven’t told you yet. Besides that legend that I mentioned, there’s a prophecy here, saying that as the many-eyed many-handed fear should arise, it can be put to death. It will happen when fire and water join their forces against the monster. And we just about have fire on us – that’s your dragon. I’m sure when we find Hojoonie he will help us figure something out with the water.’

‘Guess we have to save the world, huh?’ Sanggyun drawled. His annoyance had settled a bit, and the perspective of saving the world for some reason got him excited rather than scared.

‘Guess so,’ Sangwon nodded. ‘Can’t say I signed up for this, but looks like it’s the only way to get Sangdo and us all safely to the next level.’

‘These levels quickly got, like, insanely hard,’ Jiho winced.

Sanggyun thought back to the fight in the corridors under the stage and remembered him – winded, desperate, running on one leg and one bloody meaty mess.

‘You bet,’ he hemmed. ‘But how in the hell can we even find Hojoon?’

‘What do you think the sages are for?’ Sangwon smiled, leaning forward to peek into his face. ‘There is one around here. He even knows how to talk to animals! He can ride them without holding the reins, just by whispering into their ears.’

Sanggyun raised his eyebrows.

‘So we will probably fly the dragon?’ Jiho asked, trying to sound calm, but his excitement slipped in his intonations.

Sanggyun shook his head, shivering at the thought.

‘Nuh-uh. Maybe that guy was nice when I fed him, but I’m not getting on his back to fly him.’

Sangwon shrugged.

‘Well, maybe that one I know – the sage, that is, - can reason with him. And then you won’t have to get on his back and control.’

Sanggyun huffed, still not convinced. Sangwon rose with a loud clank.

‘Well, I guess we should be off to that sage guy. The day has only just begun and we have to put it to a good use.’

After a moment’s hesitation, Sanggyun nodded, and rose after him.

‘Yeah, sure. Am I the hero, or what?’

* * *

The sage’s house was hiding in a huge garden out on the edge of town. Sangwon pointed it out, and led their horses, one by one, along the path and into the green. The tree crowns were dense, letting in just thin strings of sunlight, and strange smells filled Sanggyun’s nostrils. He huffed slightly, but there was no way to get rid of them. They filled his head, making him a little dizzy. The leaves got tangled in his horned crown, seemingly wanting to drag him down. It was hard to stay straight on horseback.

A tall woman met them on the path, as if she had been waiting for them a while. She took their horses and showed them to the house. Sangwon took lead again. He opened the door confidently – it wasn’t locked, - and let Sanggyun and Jiho in first. The house was little and darkened as they walked in.

‘Where do we go now?’ Sanggyun asked, looking around.

‘Come on,’ Sangwon said, gesturing them to follow.

Now that he and Jiho were without their armours, Sanggyun had a chance to look at them more closely and notice how different they were here. Sangwon, wide and sturdy, seemed squarish, while tall Jiho was slender and elegant. Sangwon was stepping loudly, confidently, digging into his heels, and Jiho’s footfall was barely heard. Sangwon had trouble keeping up with both, their strong legs were used to walking a lot, while he, the prince, felt the lack of his usual strength pungently. His body  was  wrong and strange, and it made Sanggyun uneasy.

‘There we are,’ Sangwon announced, stopping in front of a little door.

‘Where?’ Sanggyun asked, quietly, examining the cracks and the faded metal, - exactly what the door leading to _a sage_ would look like in his imagination.

‘Just wait,’ Sangwon said, smiling. He raised his hand and knocked three times. As the last knock disappeared hollowly in the old wood, silence established. They waited quietly.

‘Come in,’ the voice sounded from behind the door. ‘Do come in, your highness!’

Sanggyun raised his eyebrows and glanced at Sangwon. Sangwon beamed at him proudly. He pushed the door open and let Sanggyun in first.

The room, even lower and darker than the house itself, was covered entirely in colourful carpets and cloths. There were no walls, no floor or ceiling visible – just the endless sea of fabric, soft or scrunchy, straight, crumpled, or resting in soft waves. It was impossible to tell where the room ended, and if those folds to their sides were carpets or just curtains, and if the soft gleam behind them was wall decorations, or something hidden behind those curtains. There was no one to be seen.

‘Hello?’ Sanggyun greeted uncertainly.

‘Hello, my prince,’ the voice sounded again, slightly muffled and raspy. One of the big folds moved, and Sanggyun distinguished a figure, sitting with its legs crossed among the waves of fabric. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman. The person was clad in soft salwar and a loose shirt, getting lost in the woven sea. Their face was covered and darkened under a heavy fold of fabric, and the only thing Sanggyun could see of them was their beringed hands, small and wiry.

‘Do not tell me what is bringing you here,’ the sage said. ‘I knew as soon as you walked in. Do sit down, and I will see where the wise knight is to be found.’

Sanggyun nodded quickly and sat down among the soft waves. He promised himself not to be surprised, but failed miserably. In a moment, Sangwon dropped at one side of him, and Jiho lowered at the other. Sanggyun glanced to Sangwon, but only got a little smile and a glance pointing at the figure in front of them.

The sage pulled at a tail of some cloth, and the entire right side of the room ruffled, as if it was stormy. The sage mumbled something under their breath, then pulled at the cloth to their left. The left side waved ever so slightly. The sage mumbled something else, disturbing the fabric with their hands. The entire room, little by little, rippled and responded. Sanggyun felt little vibrations under himself, and then something breathed in right under him, rising him slightly, and for a moment he died, unable even to close his eyes.

The movement stopped suddenly. The woven waves froze where they were. The sage grasped at something and, with one quick, precise motion pulled out a piece of sheer fabric and crumpled it, hiding in their fist.

Sanggyun watched them in awe.

‘I already know,’ the sage said. ‘The noble knight is in three days’ way from here, but if my prince and his friends head out right now, and hurry up their horses, they could catch him in two and a half.’

Sanggyun bit his lower lip.

‘What if we fly a dragon after him?’ Jiho called, hopefully.

Sanggyun cast him an annoyed glance, but Jiho was looking intently at the sage.

‘A dragon?!’ the sage raised their head and two sparkles shone in the dark under the fabric – their eyes.

‘Yes,’ Sanggyun said, with a sigh. ‘Maybe that could be faster?’

The sage gave a faint gasp and reached their hands up to the heavy cloth hiding their head. They threw it away, untying the tissues covering their face and neck. Sanggyun’s mouth gaped as he realized who was coming out of the cocoon. Among the fabrics, lost in waves and folds, was Sehyuk.

He looked tanner than Sanggyun was used to seeing him be, even in the faint light of the room he seemed darker. His skin glowed faintly in the warm, dim light. In his ears, tens of earrings were dinging slightly, matching the rings on his fingers, and on his forehead he had a strange symbol.

‘Now _that_ is a good meeting,’ Sehyuk remarked, rising and shaking the fabrics off himself. The mysterious charm of the sage dropped together with the cloths, and Sehyuk remained as he was – thin, dark and ornate. He looked more like a savage than a sage. ‘On a dragon, you guys, we’ll catch Hojoonie very quickly,’ he said, in a voice slightly lower than usual, and laughed briefly.

Jiho sprang to his feet.

‘Then we should go immediately!’

Sanggyun rose – his knees were still a little wobbly – and shook his head.

‘What the fuck was this show for, Sehyukie?’

Sehyuk pulled a face, resembling a savage even more.

‘ _The show._ If I could _know_ shit with less of a show, then, believe me, I would. But I have to divine on something. I’m a _sage,_ not a magician!’

Sanggyun laughed.

‘So, is it all for real? I was expecting this to be some dumbfuckery to impress the tourists.’

Sehyuk stepped out of the cloths on the ground and came up to him, his face more serious now.

‘In a world like this, can’t afford dumbfuckery,’ he said softly.

‘Look, it’s cool that it’s _you,’_ Sangwon made his presence known. ‘We just about needed to take you with us, and now we have twice better a reason.’

Sehyuk glanced over his shoulder to Sangwon, and grinned.

‘Oh, so to fly your dragon for you? You’re afraid, Sanggyunie?’

Sanggyun knitted his eyebrows and straightened, trying to be taller. He was already slightly taller than Sehyuk, but he felt no advantage. Sehyuk laughed heartily.

‘Oh, goodness, but you have all the reasons to be! It’s great that we met. Hold on a second, I need to pull on a cloak, and then we’ll go.’

He strode off to the side of the room and disappeared between the two folds of fabric – curtains.

‘Why do you have to?’ Sanggyun called.

‘I need to hide my face,’ Sehyuk’s muffled voice replied. ‘I’m a valuable person, so no one must know what I look like.’

‘If they pull your cloak off, they will know you at once for all your jewels.’

There was a faint ding.

‘Fair enough,’ Sehyuk’s smiling voice replied. In a moment, he slipped out from between the curtains – his clothes were now almost like Sangwon’s simple ones, and the hood of a long cloak obscured his face. Sanggyun glanced to his hands and noticed two or three remaining rings.

‘So you can’t leave your ornaments behind?’ he teased half-heartedly.

‘I’m not a magician, I’m a sage,’ Sehyuk said, repeating his own phrase. His voice sounded muffled from under a cloth tied around to cover his face. ‘I don’t _do_ stuff, I _know_ stuff. And to know stuff, I have to divine, and divining without these gadgets is like watching videos on YouTube without Wi-Fi. I mean, I have _abilities,_ but I still need enhancements. You get?’

Sehyuk’s modern way of speaking sounded so harsh against the entourage that Sanggyun felt dizzy for a split second. The room suddenly turned out to be cardboard, a little box in the middle of black nothing, and he watched in terror as Sehyuk stepped towards the door to open it,  to let the nothingness in and let the universe crumble, and fall, fall, fall...

Nothing happened. Sehyuk opened the door and Sanggyun glimpsed the room outside.

‘Let’s go,’ Sehyuk said, stepping out and leading the way. Sanggyun hurried after him, barely bothering to check on Sangwon and Jiho, and cursing himself. He had almost forgotten that they were in a dream, in a game – that it wasn’t normal.

Although… what  _was_ normal, he thought.

* * *

‘So there he is, huh?’

Sehyuk threw the cloak back and shook his head, dropping a hundred of black plaits down to his shoulders. Little golden earrings swayed back and forth.

‘There, there,’ Sanggyun replied. ‘Open the door and come see.’

‘Come on,’ Jiho encouraged from behind his back. He sounded awesomely – _disgustingly –_ jumpy.

‘Haven’t you seen dragons before?’ Sehyuk shot him a little glance.

‘I have, yeah, but not this close,’ Jiho confessed easily. ‘Come on.’

Sehyuk put his hand onto the doorknob.

‘Be careful,’ Sanggyun reminded, grossing his arms on his chest.

‘It’s alright, he’s calm,’ Sehyuk said, pushing the door open.

The sunlight overflowed into the darkness of the stairwell, and Sehyuk stepped confidently out and into the light. Sanggyun hurried to follow, examining Sehyuk with sincere interest. He was indeed darker, bronze rather than golden, and the look on his face was serious and concentrated. His moves were graceful, and he looked different and foreign – they  _all_ looked foreign, and Sanggyun felt something nag under his heart, although he couldn’t quite name the feeling.

The dragon raised his head at the sound of the door opening and closing again. He narrowed his many eyes, examining the four people, then looked away again, longingly. Sanggyun took a few more steps and stopped, holding his arm out not to let Jiho come any closer. Sehyuk  _didn’t_ stop. Slowly and confidently, he walked on. The dragon pricked up his long ears.

‘Nga!’ Sehyuk called.

The dragon’s huge, terrifying head turned slowly, slowly, and moved towards Sehyuk. It was menacing more than anything else. Sanggyun felt his heart sink. Sehyuk kept on walking, slowly and surely. Sanggyun could almost see his confident stare  forward .

The dragon’s head stopped moving, hovering dangerously close to Sehyuk’s.

‘Nga...’ Sehyuk repeated, this time softly, soothingly, almost – lovingly?

The dragon watched him intently with his many eyes – Sanggyun caught himself thinking he would already have died under such a stare. Sehyuk didn’t care. The dragon gave a little throaty growl. Sehyuk raised his arm in a preventive gesture.  His throat let out some inhuman sounds, low, soft, and coaxing.

The dragon jerked his head to the side sharply, and stared at Sehyuk with only one half of his eyes, his look angrier. Sehyuk raised his arm higher up, sharply, and jerked his head in response. The dragon growled again. Sehyuk pressed his other hand to his chest, and then extended it out. The dragon stared for a moment more – and then his head lashed forward.

Sanggyun caught Sangwon’s tiny gasp as he rushed forward.

But the dragon stopped in the midst of the motion, looked for a second more into Sehyuk’s eyes – and then squinted, like a cat, and touched his extended hand with his nose – slightly, almost tenderly. Sehyuk turned to Sanggyun and the others and smiled proudly.

‘Come!’ he called. ‘This guy is awesome.’

Jiho didn’t need another invitation. He ran towards the dragon at once. The huge, many-eyed head turned to him, ears pricked up, but Sehyuk put his both hands onto the dragon’s  snout , moving his lips ever so slightly, and the beast relaxed. Sanggyun watched as Jiho caressed the shiny red scales and touched the soft long ears, and something nagged under his heart again.

‘Sanggyunie?’ He turned to Sangwon’s voice. ‘You coming?’

Sanggyun sighed, looking away and pulling on a smile. He was good at pretending.

‘Yeah, just a second. I’m a little… I’m a chicken, you know.’

‘A chicken, huh.’

There was no trace of a smile in Sangwon’s voice. He had always been way, way too insightful, and Sanggyun partly hated him for that. Only partly, though, because the other half of him loved the fact that someone understood him without having to say everything out loud.

He turned to Sangwon again and met his intent, dark stare. Sangwon didn’t look foreign. Sturdier, yes, stronger, but not foreign. He had that dark hair and wide cheekbones, and his head was on the same level with Sanggyun’s. He wasn’t looking up and he wasn’t looking down. In his eyes was a question – but not the curious, impatient type. Sanggyun sighed.

‘Well, yeah, I am. I’m still scared to ride that… thing. And besides, I have no idea how people here will accept the news… that I have to leave God knows where God knows why.’

He caught himself talking about every minor worry not to give out his real feelings. Sangwon sighed, as if Sanggyun was getting on his nerves.

‘You’re the prince,’ he said firmly. ‘From what I know about fairytale princes, your servants shouldn’t question your choices, because you know better. If you don’t, the magic forces will stop you. Until they do – knock it.’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘And about the dragon – don’t worry. I can hold your hand if you’re too scared.’

Sanggyun couldn’t help but laugh. Sangwon laughed back, briefly but sincerely.

‘Hey guys!’ Sehyuk’s voice called.

‘Coming!’ Sangwon called back, turning to Sanggyun. ‘Let’s go. I know this all feels wrong, but there is no time to think about it much, okay? We have stuff to do.’

Sanggyun looked into his eyes –  _thank you._ Sangwon scoffed, turned on his heels and hurried towards Sehyuk and Jiho. Sanggyun followed suit, trying his best to calm down on the way.

* * *

The sky was massive and unbearably turquoise, without a single cloud far as the eye could see. The air was even more massive; here, high over the ground, it was cool and prickly, and if you dared turn your face to the wind, it overfilled the lungs, not letting you exhale. The dragon, unbound and shiny, spread his wings wide as he flew, bright red against the blue, now and then filling the crisp air with his loud, joyous singing. A big cage was hanging down from his neck, dangling slightly side to side together with the four people who were sitting in it.

‘This guy’s voice is _so_ familiar,’ Sehyuk said thoughtfully, staring up at the dragon’s golden belly overhead. He was trying his best to look brave, but his stare upwards and white knuckles of the fists clenched on his cloak gave him out. He was afraid of heights.

‘Oh come on, you’ve said this like a thousand times already,’ Sangwon dropped. ‘Sanggyun, hand?’

Sanggyun scoffed at him and grabbed tighter at the bars of the cage. The whole construction didn’t look safe at all, and now that it was swinging in the air he wanted to die more with each squeak of the bracing.

‘Just look at that!’ Jiho called. He sat on his knees, glued to the bars, watching everything intently. Sanggyun quietly envied his enthusiasm.

‘I’d prefer not to,’ Sehyuk dropped. ‘I can see everything without looking down. But _that voice._ I’m sure I remember it from some movie, or something. Maybe  a song. It’s like, you know, when you hear a voice autotuned, but you recognize something...’

‘Oh shut up!’ Sangwon snapped, dropping back onto the bars. The cage shook dangerously, earning a gasp from Sehyuk, who started slipping.

‘Respect your elders!’ he snarled, moving back to curl up on his place.

‘Sorry,’ Sangwon dropped without much heart. ‘You were just getting a bit too talky.’

‘Come on, you guys,’ Sanggyun hurried, although not quite willingly. ‘We have to work together.’

He loved to  get on Sehyuk’s nerves himself, and even determination to be a hero could hardly stop him.

‘And _I_ have to divine,’ Sehyuk said darkly, hiding his face between his knees.

‘Hey,’ Sanggyun called, knitting his eyebrows. ‘Will you be okay?’

‘I’ll vomit,’ Sehyuk complained, not raising his face.

Sanggyun glanced to Sangwon, just catching him roll his eyes.

‘If I’m not looking, it doesn’t mean I don’t see,’ Sehyuk reminded weakly. ‘Don’t you worry, Sangwonie. We’re getting close. I’ll try to hold steady.’

‘Close?’ Jiho called, turning to Sehyuk.

‘Yeah, just a little bit more,’ Sehyuk replied.

He raised his face – greenish, his eyes squeezed shut, - and let out a few inhuman sounds. The dragon replied with a growl.

‘There we are,’ Sehyuk said, grasping at the bars. ‘Hold tight.’

The dragon’s wings flapped a few more times, and then he dove down headfirst, and the cage almost hit against his stomach.

‘Agh!’ Sanggyun heard Sangwon exclaim, followed by Jiho’s hisses. He felt his heart rise to his throat, together with everything that was in his stomach.

‘I see him!’ Jiho cried somewhere right by his ear. ‘I see him, guys!’

Sanggyun did his best to turn his head.

‘Where, Jiho?’

He followed the pointing finger with his gaze, and he saw – he saw a figure in the midst of a flowery meadow, and a  big  horse beside it.

‘Are you sure?’ he called, turning to Jiho again.

‘It’s him,’ Sehyuk replied instead, his feet dangling side to side as he was hanging on the bars, even greener than before.

The next moment, the cage fell back to more or less vertical, and the dragon hovered flatly above the ground, lowering slowly.

‘Oh goodness!’ Sangwon exclaimed, shuffling to sit straight. ‘Oh fuck!’

‘Did you hurt yourself?’ Sanggyun examined him head to toe.

‘Nah,’ Sangwon shook his head.

‘Oh no,’ Jiho’s fallen voice sounded over Sanggyun’s ear again.

He finally got to turn around to face the bars, and he saw what Jiho saw. The figure raised a big bow, aiming somewhere around the dragon’s head.

‘Oh my God,’ Sehyuk exhaled, straightening with effort. ‘I should have foreseen this.’

He shuffled towards the gate and called:

‘Hojoon!!!’

The figure turned slightly, looking for the source of the sound.

‘Hojoon, don’t shoot!’ Jiho yelled, shaking the bars.

‘Stop, stop, you’re gonna break that,’ Sanggyun mumbled, hurrying to catch his hands and hold them still.

‘Hojoon, it’s us!’ Sangwon shouted. ‘Don’t shoot, wait!’

They were so low now that Sanggyun could see Hojoon’s features.

‘Who are you and what do you want from me?’ the voice sounded from below.

‘Hojoon, look at me!’ Sanggyun yelled. ‘Can you see me?’

‘I can’t see you!’ was the reply. ‘What do you want? Answer, or I will shoot!’

‘Tell him who you are,’ Jiho nudged Sanggyun with his elbow.

It took him a second to remember –  _who am I?_

‘I’m the prince!’

Hojoon narrowed his eyes, lowering his bow slightly.

‘The prince of what country?’

_Shit, what country?_

He glanced to Sangwon. Sangwon nodded at him reassuringly.

‘Here comes Prince Sanggyun of Arkha, and his faithful general Sangwon, and his friend Jiho, and the sage whose name must be hidden,’ he shouted down. ‘Lower your bow and greet the prince!’

‘I salute you, your highness,’ Hojoon replied, raising his bow higher again. ‘But what your country has done to mine is unforgivable, and I have my own conditions for you.’

Sehyuk jumped to his feet, slightly shaky, and shuffled to the side. Sanggyun caught the clanging of metal and turned to the sound. Sehyuk had opened the door of the cage and stood shakily, holding on the bars.

‘Sanggyunie, you will have to jump,’ he said, quickly, his voice worried. ‘Jump and fetch him before he can shoot. You can do it. Hojoon is too noble to kill you at once. I know he won’t. Come on.’

‘Are you serious?!’

‘Can you hear me, your highness?’ Hojoon’s voice called from below.

‘I do,’ Sanggyun replied, glancing to Sehyuk again. Sehyuk nodded at him.

‘I shall give you things to choose from, and you shall choose now.’

The cowardly plan – Sehyuk was good at those – was the best plan, as usual.

‘Yes,’ Sanggyun dropped, rising, holding on to the bars. He didn’t listen further. He ran up to the door and glanced down – they weren’t too high above the ground.

‘You won’t break anything,’ Sehyuk hurried. ‘I know.’

Sanggyun nodded and took a deep breath.

‘Jump,’ Sehyuk encouraged again.

And Sanggyun jumped.

The fall was quick, and he landed on springy legs. His ankle clicked unpleasantly, and he couldn’t help but hiss –  _fuck!_

‘So, I see you came to me yourself, your highness,’ Hojoon’s voice sounded behind him. ‘That is good. You are a noble prince.’

Sanggyun let out a loud breath.

‘Look, let me stand up,’ he said, trying to sound calm. In fact, his heart was racing in his throat, and he felt like he could throw it up any moment. He could almost see the tight, prepared bow behind his back.

‘I’m looking at you intently, your highness,’ Hojoon replied calmly.

Sanggyun rotated his foot right and left, making sure it was alright, and pushed himself off the ground to stand up. He had to gather up courage before he turned to face Hojoon – and the sharp tip of his arrow.

There was something familiar in Hojoon’s narrowed eyes – and something new. His hair was cut short and bleached by the sun, his face was scarred and stern. He was clad in a light armour over simple clothes, and his stance was wide and confident. He was majestic, just like Sehyuk was, and Sangwon, and Jiho, and the dragon, and Sanggyun caught himself admiring him.

‘Hello,’ he greeted, peeking into the dark eyes of the knight. ‘Missed me?’

Hojoon’s eyes widened, and Sanggyun caught the slightest tremor in his hands – he could have let that arrow out, if his hand had slipped in surprise. But Hojoon slowly returned the string to its place, lowered the bow – and dropped it to the ground.

‘Jesus fuck,’ he said quietly, and Sanggyun couldn’t help a relieved laugh.

The dragon’s wings flapped low overhead, and the horse jumped up, giving out a terrified neigh.

‘Hush, Sinloe!’

The horse turned to Hojoon and flapped a pair of huge wings of its own.

‘Hush,’ Hojoon repeated soothingly.

The dragon landed softly  on his feet , putting the cage carefully down to stand firmly on the ground .  His long tail curled slightly as it landed onto the grass, not to damage anything around.

‘Hojoon!’

‘Hojoonie!’

Hojoon turned slightly, but Sehyuk, Jiho, and Sangwon were already in front of him.

‘Oh goodness, you weren’t wasting time!’ Hojoon laughed, hugging Jiho. ‘So the hero today is Sanggyunie?’

Sanggyun nodded, stepping forward. Alone in front of the little company of hugging friends, he felt the familiar nagging under his heart.

‘He is,’ Sangwon confirmed, stepping out to throw his arm around Sanggyun’s shoulders. ‘And that’s his dragon. Between us, we call him Highness. Sanggyunie, that is, not the dragon.’

‘You don’t,’ Sanggyun huffed. Sangwon’s presence was making it easier for him somehow.

‘We do,’ Sangwon nodded.

‘So, you are the prince,’ Hojoon’s finger pointed at Sanggyun. ‘Wow, fuck, you’re a jerk!’

He laughed heartily, and Sangwon echoed his laughter.

‘No-no, he doesn’t know anything,’ he said. ‘He has no real part in what you’ve been through.’

‘True that,’ Hojoon smiled. ‘I just had to say that. Sorry. Sangwonie, you are… um… the general...’

‘Right,’ Sangwon nodded, pulling Sanggyun softly with him and closer to the group.

‘Jiho is...’

‘Our hostage,’ Sanggyun teased.

Jiho pulled a face at him, and sighed.

‘I am, yeah.’

‘And Sehyukie must be the sage?’ Sehyuk nodded – the earrings swayed back and forth. ‘A real one?!’

‘The realest of real,’ Sanggyun hurried. ‘He knows stuff, you know.’

Sehyuk sent him a little grateful  smile of his eyes – the lower part of his face remained hidden.

‘Okay,’ Hojoon nodded to himself. ‘And you probably already know who I am.’

‘The wise knight and Sangdo’s lover?’ Sanggyun said, raising his chin slightly.

‘Well, in general, you’re right,’ Hojoon said. His face remained perfectly calm and relaxed, but Sanggyun noticed the slightest tremble of the muscle as he locked his jaw for a second before he spoke. ‘I’m the knight, and I’m headed to the Fairy Kingdom to ask the fairies to tell me where Sangdo is, and to enchant the Monster, if they can do that.’

‘We’ll be in the kingdom in half an hour the very most if we fly the dragon,’ Sehyuk said, rubbing his earring between his fingers and thumb. ‘The Pegasus is good, but the dragon’s wings are bigger, you know.’

‘Where should I even put her, then?’ Hojoon hemmed, glancing to the dragon.

‘Oh his back,’ Jiho suggested out of the blue, putting his hands on his hips.

‘This… actually seems like a good idea,’ Sangwon remarked, inclining his head to the side.

Hojoon sent him a distrustful glance.

‘Well, crows _do_ travel on the backs of bigger birds, why can’t a fucking winged horse do the same?’ Sanggyun shrugged, smiling widely.

‘Have you been spending too much time with Yooncheol?’ Sangwon pulled a face at him.

‘Maybe?’

He  _did_ pick that fact up from Yooncheol when they were feeding crows once. He had fond memories of that day, the weather was nice and Yooncheol was delightfully weird.

‘By the way, about Yooncheol…’ Jiho glanced at the dragon and lowered his head thoughtfully. ‘We put all our effort now in looking for Sangdo, but what about the others?’

Hojoon glanced at the company in front of him, quickly counting them up.

‘Hansol, Yooncheol, and Byungjoo, right?’

Sanggyun looked around and nodded.

‘I won’t be surprised if they are somewhere in three,’ Hojoon hemmed.

Sanggyun glanced to Sangwon and noticed his pressed up lips as he turned away.

‘Sehyukie, maybe you could tell us where they are?’ Jiho asked, shifting on his feet.

Sehyuk glanced at his hands, almost bare, and sighed.

‘I could try.’

With that, he untied his cloak, threw it to the ground and  plopped down right onto it.

‘Come, sit down, you’re blocking the view,’ he glanced up, and Sanggyun hurried to sit on his knees, others following suit.

‘So, right now?’ he grinned slightly.

‘Why waste time?’ Sehyuk replied with a question, not raising his head. ‘So used to the fabric… the grass has absolutely different characteristics…’

Sanggyun tried his best to suppress laughter. Sehyuk lowered his head and stroked the grass on each side of himself. Sanggyun caught quiet mumbling.

‘Are you sure he’s for real?’ Hojoon whispered, leaning towards him.

‘I am,’ Sehyuk replied instead of him, his voice quickly reducing back to rustling and mumbling. Hojoon looked down quickly, straightening.

Sehyuk tapped his left hand on the ground, and the grass to the left of him rippled. He frowned, listening to the sound, then tapped his right hand. The grass rippled again, and the entire meadow turned into an anxious sea. Beside Sanggyun, Hojoon drew his head into his shoulders, shifting uneasily. Sanggyun reached his hand to tap his shoulder reassuringly, but Hojoon sent him a prickly glance.

Sehyuk’s mumbling was getting louder. He was sliding his hands low above the grass, and the thin green blades moved after his fingers, as if trying to cling to them. Then, suddenly, the hands froze, and the grass did too, perfectly still, despite the slight wind caressing the cheeks of the boys and playing with their hair. Sehyuk let out a loud breath and slammed his both palms onto the ground. And then he gasped for air, threw his head back, and his eyes flew wide open. He breathed raggedly and eagerly, as if he had been underwater.

‘Sehyukie?’ Sanggyun called, shuffling forward to help.

Sehyuk raised his hand.

‘Hush,’ he exhaled. ‘Give me… a sec...’

Sanggyun stopped midway, watching Sehyuk as he tried to regain his breath.

‘What… did you see?’ Hojoon asked uncertainly.

Sehyuk nodded quickly –  _yes, I’ll tell you right now_ _._ No one dared talk again, waiting for the verdict. Finally, Sehyuk raised his head, pushed his hands off the ground and stood up, springy.

‘How do people even divine on the grass?!’ he exclaimed, turning around, his face a look of half-laughter, half-fury. Sanggyun backed off, frowning in surprise.

‘What did you see, man?’ Sangwon demanded, standing up.

‘I saw Yooncheol!’ Sehyuk shouted, stopping abruptly. ‘I saw him underwater, and I don’t know what that fucking dork is doing there, but there he is!’

‘ _Underwater?!’_ Sanggyun exclaimed, rising quickly. ‘Like how? Is he a...’

‘A merman!’ Jiho finished for him, coming up from behind. His face was again lit up with a smile.

‘Right?’

Sehyuk shrugged, widely and theatrically.

‘Probably! Or maybe he’s a fucking squid, I wouldn’t wonder, he’s a weirdo.’

Hojoon scoffed.

‘That’s impossible.’

‘I couldn’t even look more closely to where he is!’

‘But what about Hansol?’ Sangwon asked, inclining his head to the side to peek into Sehyuk’s face. ‘Hansol and Byungjoo?’

‘Hansol is in the fairy land,’ Sehyuk replied, finally stopping all the chaotic motions and putting his hands onto his hips. ‘And Byungjoo… I didn’t see Byungjoo. Anywhere.’

Silence fell.

‘Is that… um… possible?’ Sanggyun dared ask. ‘I mean, if he’s somewhere around this world, you will see him, right? Or is there a distance limit?’

Sehyuk shrugged and shook his head.

‘There is no distance limit for knowledge, but there are no people in this world with his face, and there are no people in this world with his name. There is a possibility that he’s changed beyond recognition and was given a different name – or maybe he’s a shapeshifter – but I don’t know, in that case, how we should look for him.’

Sanggyun rubbed the back of his neck.

‘Well, _theoretically_ , this game is built so that we meet each one of us during the day,’ Sangwon said, slowly. ‘So just maybe we will meet him still.’

‘What if you already did, and missed?’

Everybody turned to Hojoon. He shrugged his shoulder slowly:

‘I know no one of us wants to think about it, but that _is_ a possible variant.’

Sehyuk scoffed.

‘They wouldn’t give us a riddle _that_ hard. I’ll stick to the shapeshifter version. Their names and faces change each time they transform, and that sometimes leads to them forgetting their real name.’

Jiho scratched his head.

‘That’s probably right. After all, the aim of the game can’t be to scatter us around and make us get lost?’

‘But what if… it is?’

‘Hojoon, quit, for fuck’s sake!’ Sangwon exclaimed, slapping his hips.

Sanggyun knitted his eyebrows. Hojoon’s remarks, seemingly purposefully smug, were making him feel dumb, leaving him little and helpless instead of the hero he wanted to be.

Hojoon raised his chin slightly.

‘Do we know _who_ set up this game for us?’

Sanggyun shook his head.

‘We don’t, but, I mean, that doesn’t...’

‘ _We do not,’_ Hojoon said with pressure. ‘Think about it, guys. Somebody spent a fuckton of money for this game, for _us_ , - and we don’t even know who, and what for! What are the possibilities?’

‘What are you suggesting?’ Jiho asked, seriously, crossing his arms on his chest.

‘Am not suggesting anything yet,’ Hojoon replied, mirroring the gesture. ‘I’m just wondering why no one thought about this earlier. Why we all just went with the flow...’

‘You think we didn’t?’ Sehyuk butted in, leaning forward slightly, as if to attack. ‘You think you’re the first to think about _why_ we’re here and why we’re accepting this all so easily?!’

The sigil on his forehead crumpled as he knitted his eyebrows. Hojoon jerked his head familiarly, as if he was throwing his hair back – although he had no bangs now to do so.

‘Then why did no one bring it up yet?’

‘Again, what are you suggesting?’ Sangwon asked, with pressure. ‘What should we do, try to break the canvas of the universe? I actually have noticed something, which might indicate the whole purpose of this game. Our roles in these universes reflect...’

‘Again your stupid theory?’ Sehyuk scoffed.

‘Guys, you need to stop,’ Sanggyun interrupted, annoyed to the point. ‘We don’t need this stupid arguing over nothing.’

‘I’m not arguing,’ Hojoon said, calmly. ‘I’m just asking you guys to be more insightful. And on the topic of insight, I’d like to hear what Sangwonie wanted to say.’

Sangwon nodded.

‘Yeah, thank you. So, the more we’re in this, the more it gets clear to me. Our roles here reflect our worries and doubts in reality. Sometimes they’re distorted, or have to be looked into to be understood, but, essentially, this is what I think. Our roles in the universes reflect our real selves, what we might be hiding or not willing to admit.’

His stare jibbed into Hojoon. Hojoon moved his shoulders uneasily. Sanggyun squinted.

‘We need to talk about it more,’ he said,’ but I suggest we do so on the go. We have to go to the fairy land, to find Sangdo, Hansol, Yooncheol, and Byungjoo. Our time is limited.’

‘He’s right,’ Sangwon nodded. ‘Let’s all get in. Hojoon, tell your horse to get on the dragon’s back.’

Hojoon sighed, but walked off, took a big pack from the ground, and called for the Pegasus. Sanggyun opened the door of the cage on the dragon’s neck, and walked in first, taking a seat as comfortable as he could manage. In a moment, Sangwon dropped down beside him.

‘Hey,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ Sanggyun glanced at him, puzzled.

‘For not getting into this stupid bickering,’ Sangwon explained, patting his back softly. ‘I mean, we should be constructive about it. We can’t fight now.’

Sanggyun shook his head doubtfully.

‘I’m still confused about this theory of yours and what the fuck it might mean.’

‘Wait till I have time to explain,’ Sangwon smiled. ‘I promise it’s a good, consistent theory.’

Sanggyun shook his head again. _I have a bad feeling about this all._

Everyone gathered quickly. Sehyuk locked the cage door and turned his head to call to the dragon. His cry was pungent and inhuman. Sanggyun turned his head as Hojoon flinched and covered his ear with his palm.

The dragon replied with a similar sound, and flapped his wings. The whole cage vibrated as he rose slowly from the ground, then swung slightly as he established his position in the air, and finally stopped almost completely.

‘Wow, this is exactly why a Pegasus is better than a dragon when it comes to flying,’ Hojoon remarked. ‘At least they don’t make this kind of noise.’

Jiho smirked and nodded to himself. No one hurried to bring up the promised talk. Hojoon held on to the bars, straightening quickly, regaining his composure – or rather, putting on his confident facade, Sanggyun couldn’t help but think. He could sense his worry, and making Hojoon uneasy was the last thing he – anyone – would want. Sangwon kept looking around, as if suddenly discouraged, but everyone remained silent, and Sanggyun began to wonder if it was because they, like him, didn’t want Hojoon annoyed, or if they had their own reasons not to want that theory to exist.

‘You wanted to tell us something,’ Jiho broke the silence. Everyone turned to him. Jiho looked at Sangwon and inclined his head to the side.

Sangwon nodded quickly, straightening, confident again.

‘Yeah. I did.’

He looked around again, peeking into faces, looking for someone to focus on. His look jibbed into Sanggyun, and Sanggyun had to resist the urge to cowardly look away, leaving him without support. Sangwon gave him a tiny nod and looked away himself.

‘The theory,’ he said, ‘is that our roles in these universes reflect our worries and doubts somehow. Now, it’s only a theory, because I first came to this thought while examining my own experience, but then the others – Sehyukie, in particular – gave me something more to think about.’

Sanggyun glanced to Sehyuk, but Sehyuk’s forehead was now resting on the tops of his bent knees, and his face was hidden. Sangwon rubbed his palms together.

‘What I noticed about my own roles, was them all being those of powerful and troublesome people.’

‘Powerful and troublesome?’ Sehyuk raised his face and squinted and Sangwon. ‘Whatever you might be thinking, Sangwonie, the most trouble you can make is get the dorm to smell like your feet, which might have seemed terrible at the time, but now, it’s safe to say, isn’t really much in comparison.’

With that, he lowered his head again, and hid inside himself.

Sangwon’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t move. Sanggyun glanced around nervously, and caught the face Hojoon made as he glanced to Sehyuk as if in surprise and vexed disbelief.

‘I feel like I’ll have to be sincere here,’ Sangwon said, with a little bit more pressure. ‘You guys probably know I’ve been training, and training more rigorously lately. When I think about it, at my worst I realize I could actually kill a person. I’m not joking here, guys. I wouldn’t hesitate about that.’

There was a faint scoff from Sehyuk’s direction. Sanggyun licked his lips. He had no reason not to believe Sangwon. Few people knew him better than he did. He had seen Sangwon at his ‘worst’, and while it happened maybe twice in all the years they had known each other, he always shivered whenever he recalled.

‘I think I get it,’ Hojoon said, slowly.

‘Oh, so you have probably considered murder of some of us?’ Sehyuk raised his face again and threw Sangwon a lazy, mocking smile.

Muscles rolled on Sangwon’s clenched jaw.

‘Maybe,’ he said, daringly.

‘Byungjoo?’ Jiho butted in, his expression unclear.

‘Who here hasn’t considered Byungjoo’s murder? You’d be a hypocrite if you said you’ve never once wanted to punch him,’ Sangwon said, louder, glaring at Sehyuk.

Sanggyun puffed a little, suppressing laughter. Sehyuk’s face twitched. Sangwon inclined his head to the side, examining Sehyuk’s reaction and added:

‘I would say it in his face, you know. In fact, I always do.’

Sanggyun couldn’t disagree with Sangwon, although he did usually feel a tad bit guilty.

‘Now, Byungjoo _is_ a pain in the ass,’ he remarked, encouraged, ‘although murder would be a little too much. If you stuck your troublesome feet into his face, on the other hand...’

Sangwon puffed in response, covering his mouth with his hand. They were joined by another faint chuckle, and Sanggyun glanced up to meet Hojoon’s sneaky smile. Jiho’s shoulders shook in soundless laughter.

‘A pain in the ass, huh?’ Sehyuk called, turning his head slightly. His intonation was unreadable, just like his face.

‘I guess we can all agree on that,’ Sanggyun concluded, beaming at Sangwon.

‘Guess that’s what he got in prison for in the previous universe!’ Sangwon laughed.

‘Yeah, guess in the future they’d care much more about the safety of people’s asses!’

‘Nah, not really!’ Hojoon laughed in response. ‘You should have seen my butt in that universe, I can’t believe they won’t invent a normal cancer treatment for the next hundred years!’

‘Oh come on!’ Jiho nudged him with his elbow.

‘I make cancer jokes _to cope,’_ Hojoon pulled a face at him, and all four laughed heartily.

‘So, anyway,’ Sangwon said, catching his breath, ‘to business. Yeah, my fights with Byungjoo probably originate there. He can be pretty annoying. I’m not holding grudges, though. I really want us to find him. I love him, you know, in my own way. I think Sanggyunie can support me with this one.’

Sanggyun huffed.  
‘Maybe I can, maybe I can not.’

He looked up at the guys – and his stare jibbed into Sehyuk.  H is narrowed eyes certainly didn’t mean anything good. It suddenly struck Sanggyun that they were all laughing at Byungjoo – and Sehyuk’s soft spot for him was a well-known fact. He quickly flipped though the things they had said, and on the second thought Sangwon’s words seemed more cruel than funny.

‘In the university universe, Hojoon told me that people who didn’t know me thought I was posh, and people who knew me a little better thought I was dumb,’ Jiho said, out of the blue. ‘I think now that this supports your theory. I mean, it’s the same in reality, innit?’

‘Oh come on, Jiho!’ Hojoon slapped his leg slightly.

‘You’re not gonna argue with this, are you?’ Jiho glanced at him calmly. ‘I’m just stating, you know. That’s an image, I had time to notice.’

‘You’re the watcher,’ Sangwon said, nodding, slowly. ‘Yes, just like in the near future universe. You sit aside and watch, but then you come exactly when you’re most needed.’

Jiho gave a little smile.

‘On a fucked up leg and screaming my lungs out.’

‘Even if so, it only says more to your advantage.’

Jiho’s smile widened a bit, and he looked  away .

‘Next on should be Hojoonie himself,’ Sangwon looked to Hojoon and inclined his head to the side a little. ‘And here, Sehyuk, and then also Jiho, actually helped me a bit. Filled me in, you know, on things I hadn’t had the chance to notice.’

The look on Hojoon’s face was helpless for barely a second. He squinted at Sehyuk, but Sehyuk  had nidden his face in his knees again.

‘What do you know?’ Hojoon asked with a little more pressure.

‘That there’s a falling out between you and Sangdo,’ Sangwon shrugged. ‘And that Sangdo has probably hurt you somehow. He didn’t mean to abandon you when he did, but you both needed time. That’s all I have. But even this aligns well with my theory.’

‘Does it? Exactly _how?_ ’

Sanggyun glanced at Hojoon and swallowed a lump in his throat as he saw his prickly stare straight at Sangwon. If Hojoon pierced  _him_ with such a stare, Sanggyun knew he would have nothing to oppose it.

Sangwon, on the other hand, didn’t even stoop.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘in this, Jiho helped me. He told me, when I asked, that you two seemed _worlds apart._ Of course, he meant it metaphorically, but he said it very well. While in reality you’re ‘worlds apart’ in your relationship, in this universe you’re literally so.’

‘In the university universe, they didn’t have a falling out, though,’ Jiho called from his place, again. ‘Sangdo just went to pursue his ambitions and got too caught up in studying, and he and Hojoon stopped hanging out.’

‘But in the near future, he was our torturer,’ Sangwon squinted.

‘He didn’t want it,’ Sehyuk called, raising his face again, almost unwillingly. ‘He hated his job. He was only there ‘cause it paid, and he had a daughter to raise.’

The corners of Sangwon’s mouth curled up slightly.

‘Oh, I didn’t think you were actually hiding evidence!’

Sehyuk exhaled loudly, giving him an expressive glance. Sangwon smiled wider.

‘A daughter, a little girl to support, this seems reality-like! And now, _unwilling_ torturer is somewhat more of what I’d imagine Sangdo to be. Hojoon, what’s going on between you guys? What has Sangdo done? How did he unwillingly torture you?’

Hojoon clenched his jaw, and Sanggyun could almost  _see_ the hot sparks spring out of his narrowed eyes.

‘What if I say that’s none of your business, and there’s no necessity to bring it up before all of the guys?’ he said, slowly, and his voice was calm, if only slightly ringing. ‘You decided to be sincere here, you _chose_ to, and I appreciate that. But while I _do_ think your theory is good and consistent, and it gives some food for thought,’ he was getting louder and louder, ‘while I believe it to be _right_ even – who the fuck, I repeat, who the _fuck_ gave you the right to discuss it like this, like this was a curious fucking story for you to analyze?! Like we were on a fucking TV show?!’

He slapped his hands onto the golden floor of the cage. Sangwon backed off slightly and glanced to Sanggyun for help. Sanggyun  looked at Hojoon, not even bothering to hide his surprise.

‘You’ve just been laughing, come on, Hojoon,’ he said, trying to sound soothing. ‘It’s not like we can only talk shit about Byungjoo, it has to be you once in a while.’

He couldn’t help a wide smile, but Hojoon’s murderous look pierced right through him.

‘You know _nothing,’_ he hissed.

‘...Jon Snow,’ Sangwon finished for him. ‘So maybe you could enlighten us.’

‘Someone told me not to intervene,’ Sehyuk dropped mockingly. ‘Told me that people have to sort their problems out themselves. Guess you could use your own advice, Sangwonie.’

Sangwon knitted his eyebrows.

‘Now if you only just _compare_ what _I_ was about to do, and what _you_ were about to do, you’d see that I only wanted to know what was the problem! It’s not in my power to fix anything for him...’

Sanggyun caught himself quickly getting tired of their arguing.  _Calm down, for fuck’s sake. Wait for a better time to measure dicks with motherfucking Sehyuk._

‘Well, we’re all in this together,’ he interrupted, as firmly as he could manage. ‘And we have to proceed all together, and for that we need to somehow sort out our problems. Hojoon, that’s all that Sangwon wants, I promise.’

‘I _hate_ when people talk about me like I’m not here!’ Hojoon snapped, rising sharply to his feet – he almost fell, failing to balance the weight of his armour, but he grasped at the bars just on time. ‘If he _really_ wants to sort out problems, I’d recommend he sorted out his own first!’

‘You all need to shut the fuck up!’ Sanggyun jumped up right after him, raising his voice just to be heard. ‘You _need_ to calm down right now! Guys! Listen!’

‘Now _you_ totally need to sit down!’ Sehyuk cut him off, raising his face to look at Sanggyun. ‘What you all guys have been saying is plain disrespectful, to me first of all, and I’m gonna demand you pay me at least _a little_ attention!’

‘You had all the attention you want, but you started fucking bickering like a kid in the sandbox!’ Sanggyun exclaimed. The words burned at the back of his throat and tasted bitter as he realized what he had said.

‘Yes, tell him, Sanggyunie!’ Sangwon called up at him. Sanggyun glanced down – and met his stare from under furrowed brows. ‘And you, Hojoon, should probably tell me what problems you think I have.’

Hojoon opened his mouth, and by his expression Sanggyun guessed that he was just about to say something that everyone would regret. Nobody actually listened to him – or each other, - they were busy arguing and blowing off their steam – all of the pressure, and fear, and uncertainty – right on each other.

‘All I wanna tell you all is to shut up!’ he yelled, covering whatever was about to escape Hojoon’s lips. ‘You’re just making this all worse! You are - ‘

He was interrupted momentarily by a low roar. It sounded above their heads, ringing through the dragon’s stomach, and silenced everyone immediately.

‘We’re there,’ Sehyuk announced coldly. ‘And we’re going to land right before the gate. You better get yourself into a normal condition and act friendly.’

And he cursed under his breath – something barely intelligible, but angry, - and spat to the side, shooting right between the bars.

Sanggyun looked around helplessly. Hojoon plopped back down to the floor and turned away to face the bars. Sangwon sent Sehyuk another murderous glance, and as soon as he looked down, Sehyuk sent him a disgusted one. Jiho raised his eyes to look at Sanggyun and shrugged his shoulder slightly, almost apologetically.

‘Guys, I’m sorry,’ Sanggyun muttered, lowering to sit down. He regretted everything, from beginning to end.

‘Yes, me too,’ Sangwon hurried, glancing to him. ‘Sorry, Hojoon. That was really rude of me.’

Hojoon hemmed.

‘Okay,’ he said, but his voice sounded anything but convincing. Sanggyun pressed up his lips. Hojoon _was_ the type to hold grudges, and now it made him mad and scared at the same time.

Sehyuk didn’t say anything. He waited until the cage touched the ground, unlocked the door and got out first. Sanggyun hurried after him, although he didn’t know what to say to him – he didn’t even want to talk. He just wanted to get out, out and away from the heavy air in the golden cage.

Sehyuk strode off to the dragon’s head. The dragon turned to him softly, and Sehyuk stroked his head, caught his long soft ears, pressed his forehead into  the red scales. Sanggyun watched him from away, sighing quietly. They all needed a second to themselves.

‘He’s being plain weird, if you ask me,’ Sangwon’s voice said right over his ear.

Sanggyun shook his head, taken aback, and shot Sangwon a reproachful glance.

‘And you’re being plain rude.’

‘He actually started it all, you know.’

‘Oh, now _you_ are behaving like a kid in the sandbox!’

Sangwon fell resentfully silent. Sanggyun took a few breaths, trying to tame anger starting again to burn in his ribcage.

‘Look, Sangwonie. You can’t be _that_ intrusive. I know you understand a lot of things they don’t say, things they think no one can understand but themselves, - but there’s no necessity to say them out loud.’

‘You could take your own advice,’ Sangwon hemmed.

He was too right for Sanggyun’s liking. He sighed.

‘I know.’

They were silent for a little while.

‘Now look,’ Sanggyun tried again, uncertainly, ‘It’s not that I’m being a smartass… but the aim of this dumbshit game, for us at least, is to get out of this all together, right? Not break up along the way, and not lose one of us. Together, okay?’

Sangwon nodded thoughtfully.

‘Yeah. You’re right. But the more I look at us, the less it’s clear to me how we’re gonna manage it. There’s so much going on, and I’d much rather sort it out if we have to keep on together – and there’s no time for that.’

‘Exactly,’ Sanggyun put his hand on his back. ‘I know just what you think now. That’s what I’ve been thinking, when I saw what our, uhm, _discussions_ lead to. We have no time to sort _anything_ out. We just need to keep on. Keep on going and gathering together, time after time. And quit overthinking!’

Sangwon smiled slightly at him.

‘Well… I’ll try my best to quit. But I can’t promise anything. Now we should get going, shouldn’t we?’

‘Yep,’ Sanggyun nodded. ‘We have caught our breath, now back to business.’

‘Right.’

Sanggyun looked at Sangwon again, and smiled slightly.  _Thanks, man. I love you so fucking much._

‘Sorry,’ he said aloud. ‘I’m being a fucking party pooper. I never liked moralizers, and now I myself am one...’

‘‘Salright,’ Sangwon reassured easily, reflecting his smile. ‘I needed that. Come on.’

* * *

Finding the gate in the solid, elaborately carved wall was beginning to take a while. The dragon dragged heavily along the grass, towering menacingly over the small company, but carefully guided by Sehyuk. The Pegasus trotted along with the guys, peeking into faces, but receiving attention from no one. Hojoon had taken off his armour and led the way, running forward to check every now and then. Now he had just returned from another such dash, and was striding a little ahead of everyone, silent and  an ything but friendly.

‘Maybe we should just fly over the wall on the dragon?’ Sanggyun suggested absently. The silence was getting on his nerves.

‘We can’t,’ Hojoon dropped over his shoulder, slowing down a little. ‘This wall is enchanted. No one can get in over it, unless they’re let in by the guards.’

‘And where exactly _are_ the guards?’ Sanggyun glanced at the wall in annoyance.

‘Is there even a gate?’ Jiho asked, with a little shrug.

Hojoon sent him a murderous glance.

‘There _must_ be,’ he replied sharply. ‘If there are guards, there is a gate. Logic, Jiho.’

‘But fairies have wings, don’t they?’ Jiho hemmed, shrugging again, calmly. ‘Why do they even need a gate?’

Hojoon stopped abruptly in his tracks and turned around.

‘Look,’ he said, quietly and angrily. ‘Fairies have a massive fucking network of connections with all kinds of peoples and creatures. They could have stayed in the forests, scattered and hard to find, but they cared enough to actually build cities, to maintain their connections, enhance them, and keep them structured. They cared enough to even share their knowledge of magic, even if for them that knowledge in basic. They’re fucking kings and queens of diplomacy, they are politicians. And you ask me if they need a gate.’

‘Comparing them to politicians does not convince me anyhow that they need a gate,’ Jiho smiled slightly, ‘but anyway. Not gonna annoy you with that.’

‘Do me a favour,’ Hojoon dropped, turning again and heading quickly forward and away.

Jiho sighed quietly under his breath, but Sanggyun heard it.

‘Hey,’ he called, coming closer to walk beside Jiho. Sangwon, who had been walking along with him the whole time, sent him a glance, but backed off to let them talk.

‘Hm?’ Jiho glanced up at Sanggyun and made a little replying motion with his chin.

‘Are you angry at Hojoon?’

Jiho sighed. He didn’t look angry, but Sanggyun knew better than to trust Jiho’s looks. He was too good at concealing emotions — better than anyone else of their company. Now, under Sanggyun’s stare, his face was unreadable, giving no sign of ever wishing to reply. Sanggyun looked away, at Hojoon’s broad back moving further away as he walked on in a quick pace.

‘Well, I’m not angry as is,’ Jiho said. ‘I just don’t understand. And I really _want_ to know what’s going on.’

‘Don’t we all...’ Sanggyun sighed quietly.

‘You guys are blatant, though,’ Jiho remarked. ‘You and Sangwon. We’ve all been kind of hard on Sehyuk, I confess, but that interrogation of Hojoon got me really upset.’

‘But you, too, want to know,’ Sanggyun glanced up at him. ‘I don’t understand, you could have just asked. I bet he would have replied to _you._ ’

‘Unlikely,’ Jiho sighed. ‘Hojoon’s not the one to tell his secrets easily. You think I wouldn’t have known what’s wrong with them? I actually am in fucking shock I never noticed anything...’

‘When did you two even start hanging out?’

Jiho looked away, recalling.

‘Hard to tell,’ he said finally, with a shrug. ‘Feels like forever to me.’

‘It’s just that...’ Sanggyun squinted up at the sky. ‘I just remember him always hanging out with Sangdo – and then suddenly they didn’t hang out as much any more. And then Sangdo started hanging with Yooncheol more, and Hojoon – with you… What the hell happened between those two?!’

‘Fucked if I know,’ Jiho sighed and bit his lower lip. ‘Who bothers me more, though, is Sangwonie. Hojoon said something about his problems, and that strange confession… I wonder where _that’s_ going.’

‘I never noticed Sangwon having actual anger issues,’ Sanggyun remarked. ‘I mean, when he _does_ get angry, he’s pretty dangerous, but it’s not like he can’t control himself. Much unlike Byungjoo...’

‘I’m worried for him,’ Jiho said. ‘Hojoon knows _a lot_ about everyone.’ Sanggyun looked up at him, and met his dark stare as he repeated hollowly: ‘ _A lot._ ’

Hojoon stopped some hundred metres further from them, and waved.

‘I guess he found the gate,’ Sanggyun said, without much relief.

‘We should better hurry,’ Jiho replied, and strode off, quickly outrunning Sanggyun.

Sanggyun quickened his pace, trying his best to silence the noisy thoughts clanging and dinging against each other in his head.

* * *

‘I’m gonna ask you to be careful, okay? Keep an eye out for Byungjoo.’

‘You can trust me on that.’

‘I never doubted you anyway, Sehyukie… also, please, all of you, try not to get in trouble. Keep with me. I’m gonna do the talking, okay?’

Everyone nodded. Sangwon rolled his eyes. Hojoon nodded back, not sparing him as much as a glance, turned forward again, and finally stopped.

The guards clad in green armours, carved as intricately as the wall and slightly glowing, raised their arms in a stopping gesture in front of him. They were both tall, about as tall as Jiho, and one of them was thin and slender, with sickly, sharp features, and the other one was significantly sturdier, squarish, and had a resting bitch face. _How do they even remain calm seeing us?_ \- Sanggyun thought. _We are ridiculous._ He could only imagine what they looked like to the guards – a prince of a faraway country, his foe’s knight, his warrior, a mysterious cloaked – _short skinny guy –_ sage, a big albino, an impatient Pegasus – and an enormous dragon with his mug covered in eyes.

Their appearance didn’t seem to bother the guards too much, though.

‘Who are you?’ the slender one asked loudly and distinctly.

Hojoon made a slight bow.

‘I am Hojoon,’ he said, his voice a little deeper than usual, ‘the faithful knight to the Son of Moon, the heir of the Moonshine Crown and the prince of Dallia, Yu Sangdo.’

The guard squinted a little and exchanged glances with his partner.

‘We have heard of you, wise knight,’ the sturdy guard said, in a couple of seconds’ silence. ‘Who are you bringing along?’

Hojoon glanced over his shoulder at the others, and stopped aside.

‘I am kindly joined in my travels,’ his outstretched arm pointed at Sanggyun, ‘by Prince Sanggyun of Arkha with his escort.’

The slender guard raised his eyebrows.

‘I would never expect people of Dallia and Arkha to be travelling side by side!’ he said, his tone more amused than surprised.

‘In the face of a common danger, his highness has joined me on my route to save my prince,’ Hojoon said, perfectly calmly.

‘But who is in your highness’ escort?’ the sturdy guard squinted at Sanggyun. Sangwon spoke instead of him:

‘I am Sangwon, the general of his highness’ army, this is Jiho, my Dallian friend, and along we are bringing a sage, whose name and face must be hidden.’

Upon hearing Jiho being called the ‘Dallian friend’, Hojoon changed in expression – for a brief moment, his face was so ridiculously surprised that Sanggyun had to bite down on his lips to hide a chuckle. He glanced away to Sehyuk for a distraction, and almost distinguished his stern profile through the fabric of the cloak.

‘Your party is indeed strange,’ said the slender guard. ‘But while we bow in front of his highness prince of Arkha,’ with these words he bowed, his sturdy partner repeating the motion, ‘to enter this gate, you must have a good reason. What brings you to this gate?’

Hojoon glanced over to Jiho and pulled an even more hilarious face before turning to the guards again. He exhaled loudly and crossed his arms on his chest.

‘The old evil has awoken at the bottom of the ocean,’ he said.

‘We know that,’ the sturdy guard replied calmly.

‘And you must also know that, to become almighty and destroy our world, the evil has to feed on the lifeblood of the Son of Moon for forty days.’

‘This we also know,’ the sturdy guard nodded slowly.

‘And, as you might have heard, I am in search of my prince, the very Son of Moon from the prophecy,’ Hojoon continued, his voice even. ‘A lot of time has passed, but it is still not too late to save him. Thus far, none of the sages of the other peoples and realms could help me in my search, but I know that fairies possess wisdom much greater than any other folk. I am familiar with your noble king Il, titled Wise, and I would like to speak with his royal majesty and ask for some help in my search. The safety of our entire world depends on my success, and that is why prince Sanggyun and his escort joined me on my journey.’

The guards both changed in expressions. They looked at each other, then at Hojoon, then back at each other. Finally, the slender one spoke:

‘Do you not know the fate of King Il?’

Sanggyun almost saw Hojoon’s face as he straightened sharply.

‘The fate?!..’

The sturdy guard nodded.

‘I am surprised. On your journey, you must have met the wisest people, and yet you do not know such a thing.’

‘What happened to King Il?..’ Hojoon asked, slowly.

The slender guard sighed and looked down.

‘His majesty King Il the Wise has perished. Protecting his people, he came too close to the Old Evil, and it devoured him. He did save us for the time being, and he won us time to prepare our defense, but he died, and his place is now taken by the new king.’

‘But King Il had no children,’ Hojoon sounded confused. ‘Who took the throne?’

‘His distant relative took it upon himself to rule the fairies in this time of trouble,’ the sturdy guard said, looking away. ‘But enough talk. Your cause, wise knight, is a good one. You will be taken to young king Han Sol, and you will be treated with all due respect.’

With this, the guards turned to open the gate, and Hojoon turned to the others,  taking in the surprised stares. A wide smile  shone  on his face.

‘That’s unexpected luck!’ he whispered. ‘This is awesome. You just still keep an eye out, alright?’

* * *

‘You need to close your mouth.’

‘Huh?’

‘Close your mouth, Sanggyunie, you’re a prince, and you look like a dumbass.’

Sanggyun glanced at Sangwon absentmindedly, before looking away again to stare around, eyes wide in amazement. There were fairies walking down the streets, and there were fairies flying up in the air – and they were all of amazing beauty, their faces lively, and their clothes looking strangely modern in the fairytale entourage. The city itself was radiant, openwork, and pointy, washed in blues of the water and skies, and in greens.

‘Have you noticed their wings?’ Jiho whispered over his ear.

‘Huh?’

‘Just look up.’

Sanggyun squinted at the sky, trying to focus on the figures.

‘You see, the fairies are divided into three kinds,’ Sangwon informed casually. ‘The Birds, the Bees, and the Bats, we call them among ourselves.’

Sanggyun chuckled.

‘So the Birds have bird wings, and the Bees have bee wings?’

‘Well, not necessarily bee,’ Sangwon shrugged. ‘They also come in beetle and butterfly. Dragonflies happen, too. Some are as lucky as to have furry moth wings, but they live further to the north, where it’s colder.’

‘How come I don’t see any Bats?’ Sanggyun asked, looking around again.

‘They’re sleeping, duh. Those are party animals,’ Jiho replied instead of Sangwon, and they exchanged little smiles.

‘How much are you willing to bet that Hansol is a Bee?’ Sanggyun mused, casting Jiho a little smirk.

‘King Il was a Bird,’ Hojoon butted in, looking over his shoulder. ‘I’d guess Hansol might be as well. But given he’s a distant relative, he could be a Bat for all I know.’

Sangwon scoffed.

‘Pfft, unlikely!’

Hojoon shrugged.

‘He _is_ a Bee,’ Sehyuk informed from under his hood.

‘Hojoon, you owe me one!’ Sanggyun smiled widely.

‘I’ll get back to you,’ Hojoon threw over his shoulder, turning away, but his voice was smiley, and Sanggyun felt completely relieved.

‘Are the fairies walking the streets wingless, though?’ he glanced at the back of the attendant who was guiding them down the streets, and turned to Sangwon.

‘Every fairy can hide their wings,’ Sangwon explained. ‘When they’re not needed, they’re hidden, and when a fairy wants to fly, they simply spread them and go. Can’t risk harming the wings just walking around.’

‘Come in, and be our guests!’ the attendant’s voice sounded, silencing them, and Sanggyun turned immediately to where it was coming from.

They were standing in front of an elaborate, slender, seemingly featherweight gate, cracked open barely enough to let them in. Sanggyun looked up and his mouth opened again, in amazement at the castle that was standing in front of them. It was enormously tall,  beautiful, openwork so as to look like it was hovering over the ground.

‘King Han Sol is waiting for you,’ the attendant’s voice brought him back to reality. ‘You should come see him at once, and after that you shall be taken to your rooms to rest. Your journey has been long and tiresome, but your visit is too important to postpone.’

‘I agree,’ Hojoon remarked from ahead, turning his head to look over his shoulder as he entered the gate.

‘Come on!’ Sangwon nudged Sanggyun, which turned out more like a dig in the ribs. ‘We gotta go!’

Sanggyun glanced at him, not really collecting where he was supposed to go, and the next second he felt a firm grip on his wrist as Sangwon dragged him forward and inside, almost slamming him into the door.

The manoeuvre of avoiding the sharp carved metal finally brought Sanggyun around. He looked  here and there , making sure all of his friends were close, and counted them quietly on his fingers.

_Sehyuk, Hojoon, Jiho, Sangwon..._

Sangwon was the most palpable. He never released Sanggyun’s wrist, so he could calmly look around and take in the magnificent castle, filled to the brim with light. The attendant guided them down a winding corridor and to another gate, not as tall as the portal of the castle, but not less magnificently decorated. It opened slowly, and Sanggyun saw a wide room, so colourful his eyes unfocused for a moment. Sangwon pulled at his arm, and he followed easily, through the entrance and inside. The colours washed over him and overwhelmed.

‘Bow to King Han Sol!’ the attendant’s voice sounded over their heads, and something stirred softly in the air up above them. Sanggyun barely registered the heads bowing around him. He stared as something bright pink turned, and revealed a slender figure sitting with its legs crossed, casting down a careful, serious stare.

‘Oh, I see you don’t bow, Prince Sanggyun!’ Hansol smiled slightly, narrowing his eyes.

‘You’re… a King,’ Sanggyun managed, eyes wide, staring up at Hansol, in his fairy clothes, sitting above them on a wave of solid colour.

Hansol changed in expression. His glance rushed to the attendant.

‘Leave us alone!’ he commanded.

‘As you please, your majesty,’ the attendant replied somewhere behind their backs, and Sanggyun listened to the shuffle of his feet, and then the little ding of the door closing. That’s when Hansol gasped, stood up sharply, - and dropped straight down from his pink seat.

Everyone rushed to catch him, but in a blink of an eye he threw his wings to spread – magnificent, translucent butterfly wings, as bright as the room they were in.

‘Sanggyunie!’ Hansol threw himself on his neck from above, and clung to him, and Sanggyun threw his arms around him involuntarily. ‘You guys!’

He hugged each one in turn, tightly and happily, until he stepped back to look at them, his face relieved and smiling.

‘Oh goodness, hello!’

‘Hello, Hansolie,’ Sangwon greeted softly. ‘We’re happy to see you, too.’

Hansol opened his mouth to say something, but Hojoon spoke over him:

‘Look, I don’t think we have much time. We have several problems that need to be taken to right now. Okay? Sorry to interrupt the greetings.’

Hansol glanced to him and nodded quickly, raising his eyebrows.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be too squishy...’

‘It’s fine,’ Hojoon raised his hand, silencing him. ‘So first off, the things you must know of: the Old Evil.’

‘I know about the Old Evil,’ Hansol said, slowly. ‘Well, how can I not.’

‘And you know about the Son of Moon.’

‘Yes, I know the legend,’ Hansol nodded. ‘The Evil must feed on the blood of the Son of Moon for forty days on streak. And I know the Son of Moon is captive.’

‘Sangdo is captive.’

Hansol nodded again.

‘I know.’

‘Do you know where to find him?’

Hansol shook his head.

‘I don’t know. My fairy powers proved insufficient here. But!’ He raised his finger. ‘I know somebody who knows.’

Hojoon huffed.

‘So we need to go somewhere again, right? Fly the dragon, remain in a closed space together...’ Sehyuk muttered from under his cloak.

‘No-no,’ Hansol smiled widely. ‘It’s close. I’ll take you there just now.’

Hojoon’s expression immediately lifted.

‘Oh, excellent. Do take us there.’

Hansol shrugged and  strutted  in between them and towards the door.

‘Come!’ he called. ‘You’re in for a surprise.’

Everyone followed him into the corridor. Sangwon ran up to him from behind and continued beside him, seemingly forgetting about everyone else.

‘What’s wrong with being together in a closed space?’ Hansol asked, glancing up at him and smiling slightly.

Sangwon reflected his smile and quickly looked forward.

‘Well, you know, we have been… arguing.’

‘Oh! Over what?’

‘You see, we couldn’t locate Byungjoo, and someone suggested that we had already met him and missed, or that he was turned into someone with a different name and face, and then he would be impossible to find.’

Hansol frowned, looking up at Sangwon.

‘And… what exactly is there to argue about?’

‘Well, some of us are more optimistic than others,’ Sangwon shrugged. ‘Some of us believe that this game is set up to tear us apart, and that Byungjoo is lost forever. The others don’t want to believe that. Some certain people are also more fond of Byungjoo than others...’

They exchanged meaningful glances and Hansol chuckled quietly, but quickly regained his composure.

‘I don’t think I have met a Byungjoo in this kingdom,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘But I will ask… the one I’m taking you to!’ he smiled again, easily. ‘I hope none of you are holding grudges, though.’

Sanggyun glanced back to Hojoon, who was walking at the tail, looking straight ahead, ignoring Jiho beside him.  _I sure do hope so._

Hansol opened the gate, inviting them out with a gesture.

‘Come on!’ Everyone followed him as he walked out into the street. ‘It’s not far,’ he reassured.

‘Who do you have?’ Jiho called. ‘Do you have Yooncheol?’

Hansol shot him an unmoved glance and said nothing.

‘Of course it’s Yooncheol, who else could that be?’ Sehyuk said reluctantly.

‘We still don’t know what he looks like, though,’ Sanggyun remarked, ‘and he has to be underwater, as Sehyuk said...’

‘I have to warn you,’ Hansol said with a little smile, ‘don’t be surprised at what you’ll see, and don’t be making assumptions. Refrain from comments, y’know.’

Sangwon squinted at him.

‘What are you talking about? He _is_ a squid? He has hentai tentacles???’

Hansol reached up and smacked the back of his head.

‘You must be dumb,’ he said, condescendingly, and Sanggyun heard the Fairy King intonation slip in his voice. ‘We’re there!’

Where he stopped, the street ended abruptly, giving way to water – not wide enough to be a  proper river, but not narrow or fast enough to be a stream. Hansol crouched down beside it and leaned down, dipping his hand in the water.

‘Is that how you summon Yooncheol these days?’ Sangwon called, his voice smiling. ‘I thought you would at least make a pentagram with five living axolotls…’

Sanggyun huffed quietly. Jokes on Yooncheol were always funny. Hansol, however, paid no attention. He stood up and took a step back.

‘Be prepared to get a little wet, if he’s in the mood,’ he warned, and his voice sounded somehow especially warm and smiley.

The next moment, the water broke in the middle with a splash, and a long, slender, silvery figure shot out of it. It hung in the air for a brief moment in the aura of sparkly drops, before splashing the water around with a wide, silvery-turquoise fish tail, and dropping back down.

Hansol laughed, stepping back.

‘Hello-hello there!’ he greeted cheerfully.

The head that remained over the surface, threw long hair back and quickly approached the bank. Two narrow, long-fingered and long-nailed hands grasped at the pavement, revealing thin membranes between fingers.

‘Yooncheol!’ Sanggyun called, smiling.

Yooncheol perched on his hands, made a little effort and threw his body smoothly to sit on the bank. Sanggyun could see his bony body  in its entirety –  with greenish, slightly translucent skin, a fin on his back, and narrow slits of gills on the sides of his neck. He never looked away from Hansol, his face lit with a soft smile.

‘Hello, my King,’ he greeted jokingly. His voice sounded a little hollow. ‘Hope you are feeling fine.’

He caught Hansol’s hand – a fin under his arm opened slightly, and then fell back in stiff, angular folds as he brought Hansol’s palm to his chest , his look into his eyes tender and loving. 

‘Excuse me, but what the fuck is going on here?’ Sangwon demanded loudly, stepping forward.

‘You were asked to refrain from comments,’ Hojoon remarked.

‘Yooncheol, look who I’m bringing,’ Hansol said, calmly and softly, taking his hand away.

Sanggyun quickly recollected himself.

‘Yooncheol, hello,’ he waved his hand, stepping forward confidently.

Yooncheol raised his eyes at him – his irises were huge and round, bordering enormous pupils. Sanggyun stopped hesitantly under his careful stare, but dared:

‘I’m Sanggyun, prince of Arkha.’

Yooncheol shivered. His graceful, sleek merman look fell instantly, he jerked his hands away from Hansol and stared at the guys in front of him, his eyes almost round, like those of a fish.

‘Hey, come on, take it easy!’ Sanggyun smiled, covering the distance between them in two big steps. ‘Are those gills? Can I touch?’

Yooncheol’s skin was smooth and slippery, and he moved his shoulders uneasily under Sanggyun’s touches, but didn’t flinch away, just crossed his arms over his chest, covering up.

‘Yooncheolie, we got trouble,’ Hansol said, crouching down beside him. ‘See the guys are almost all gathered up. The last ones we have yet to find are Sangdo and Byungjoo. Sangdo is the Sun of Moon, whom the Old Evil stole, as you probably know, but they can’t find Byungjoo anywhere. I thought maybe you could help us locate both.’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘Wh-why him?’ Sangwon asked from behind Sanggyun’s back. ‘Why he, of all people, is the best one to help us out?’

‘Merpeople are the wisest folk there is,’ Hansol turned to him. 'Right, Yooncheolie?’

Yooncheol nodded slowly.

‘Y-yeah,’ he said, uncertainly. ‘I mean, there are means to look for people and stuff down there underwater… and the Old Evil was born on the ocean bed, we know where it hides and we avoid it. It probably carries Sangdo around with it, you know, from what I gathered from the legends...’

‘About the legends,’ Hojoon butted in. ‘I have another brilliant idea. We came here on a fiery dragon, and you are a merman, so I’m guessing we should figure out a way to rescue Sangdo together.’

Yooncheol frowned.

‘Wait a sec… you are expecting me to go and fulfill the prophecy? On the dragon’s back, or something?’

‘Why you alone?’ Hojoon shrugged. ‘You should probably gather as many of your merfolks as you can gather. After all, their safety depends on that, too. No one is safe until the Old Evil is destroyed, and it can be destroyed by combining the forces of fire and water, so...’

He shrugged. Yooncheol looked down.

‘I mean, I guess that’s the only way anyway,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘because otherwise we won’t get Sangdo. But I’m not much of a talker, you know.’

Hojoon smiled.

‘Well, I am.’

‘But you aren’t amphibian...’

‘I could help out,’ Hansol smiled back at Hojoon. ‘I could create you a nice air bubble, and you will be able to talk all you want...’

‘I think I should take you both,’ Yooncheol glanced at Hansol, and their gazes locked, as if in silent conversation again.

‘Yes, you should,’ Hansol nodded. ‘I’m the Fairy King, and if there’s a folk that merpeople value as equals, or anywhere close, it’s the fairy folk.’

Yooncheol nodded.

‘We shouldn’t waste time,’ he said. ‘The evening will be falling soon. We gotta go now. I’ll take you two, and you guys wait here, alright?’

Sanggyun glanced over his shoulder at Sangwon, Jiho and Sehyuk. The company seemed rather problematic, and he felt uneasy.

‘Are you sure you have to go, Hansol?’ he asked uncertainly, shifting from one foot to the other.

Hansol nodded firmly.

‘Yes. It’s crucial. I hope it won’t be long, though, at least we will try our best. Right, Hojoonie?’

Hojoon nodded, and came up to him quickly.

‘Let’s go,’ he said.

‘Let’s!’ Hansol smiled. He put his arms around Hojoon, led him to the edge and jumped. The water closed over them, but in its transparent depth Sanggyun distinguished a round shape – Hansol’s air bubble.

‘Hold on there,’ Yooncheol said quietly. He slipped sloppily off the edge and splashed into the water. His figure, - a long wavy line, - circled the air bubble a few times, and then rushed right in and pushed the bubble forward. A couple of seconds – and they were gone.

There was silence just for a little while more.

‘What the hell just happened?’ Sangwon exclaimed, slapping his hips. ‘It’s way too fast, I’m not keeping up!’

‘I’m a little bit confused myself,’ Sanggyun confessed, turning to him. ‘But, well, briefly, Yooncheol is a merman, as expected, and we are on our way to finding Sangdo and Byungjoo now.’

‘I understood this much!’

‘Then what do you not understand?’ Jiho asked calmly.

‘UGH!’

Sangwon plopped down right onto the ground and huffed angrily, turning away.

‘Now what do we do?’ Sanggyun glanced at Jiho.

‘Now we wait,’ Jiho replied.

Sangwon gave another frustrated groan. Sanggyun exchanged glances with Jiho – he seemed the most likely to support him, - but Jiho just shrugged.

‘I mean, anyone else wondering why the fuck Yooncheol is flailing around Hansol in every universe?’ Sangwon broke the silence, challenging everyone in turn with a heavy glance.

‘I mean, doesn’t he in reality?’ Sanggyun shrugged. ‘He’s so motherly. Almost like Sangdo, you’d say.’

‘Sangdo is all-inclusive,’ Sehyuk remarked, finally throwing back his cloak and untying the cloth from around his face. ‘Yooncheol isn’t such a father figure to all. But, you know, to be fair, he didn’t flail in the far future universe.’

‘Haven’t seen him there,’ Sangwon dropped.

‘Well, I have,’ Sehyuk shrugged.

‘Well, even if he does, so what?’ Sanggyun shrugged. ‘Why does it make you so angry?’

‘I’m not angry,’ Sangwon moved his shoulders uneasily, looking away. ‘I’m just… wondering. And trying to put this into the concept of my theory.’

‘Oh come on,’ Jiho scoffed. ‘Your overthinking is really getting out of hand. We have other things to think about right now.’

‘Exactly,’ Sehyuk remarked, biting his lips. ‘And the thing to think about right now is: where is Byungjoo?’

‘Yooncheol promised they would look for him,’ Sangwon shrugged, glancing up at him. ‘And the merpeople are the most knowledgeable folk out there, so they will probably help out.’

‘But I’m _also_ knowledgeable,’ Sehyuk drawled, his tone almost offended. ‘And I can’t see him! I’m really starting to worry. What if he got turned into an inanimate object?’

‘Sehyukie, you needn’t worry,’ Jiho started, but Sangwon interrupted him:

‘Oh quit! In that case he’d be lost forever.’

Sehyuk gave a long, loud sigh.

‘That’s what I’m implying,’ he said distinctly, with pressure.

‘This. Can’t. Be.’ Sangwon cut off, crossing his arms on his chest.

‘Well, Hojoon would disagree with you,’ Jiho smiled. ‘But I won’t. I think you’re right. Sehyukie, look at it this way: if someone out there wanted to scatter us and get us lost, they would probably have started working towards it already. And everything has been pretty alright...’

Sehyuk let out another loud breath.

‘University,’ he counted a finger. ‘Yooncheol was so sleepy he collapsed. Near future. Three of us – I remind you, Byungjoo, Sangwon, and Hojoon, - were doomed, and when we rescued them we almost got killed, all of us.’

‘But those situations all have a hypothetical happy ending,’ Jiho remarked. ‘Byungjoo being turned into, like, a chair, doesn’t have one.’

‘Maybe they got desperate because we’re so good at getting out of things,’ Sehyuk said, but he didn’t sound that certain any more.

‘Admit it, you were being dumb,’ Sangwon replied condescendingly.

‘I just hope Yooncheol can get us some info,’ Sanggyun butted in, hastily – he was already starting to feel left out, and it made him a little desperate.

‘More like, Hojoon and Hansol get us some,’ Sangwon said, not sparing him a glance.

‘What is the plan, remind me,’ Sehyuk scratched the back of his neck.

‘I think to save Sangdo and to find Byungjoo?’ Jiho shrugged. ‘The only problem is, we’ll probably save the world in the process. Or maybe Byungjoo is the Old Evil, and then it will be easier. Or harder, I don’t know.’

He laughed.

‘Are you for real, about saving the world?’

Jiho glanced at Sehyuk and shrugged.

‘That’s what things look like for me.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Sanggyun hurried, but Jiho didn’t look at him, either.

‘I think we got a little caught up in the game of saving kingdoms,’ Sehyuk said, knitting his eyebrows. ‘It sounds all easy, just like it does in fairytales. What, use the forces of fire and water and combine them against the evil. But how exactly do you imagine it to be?’

‘I think… the water people have to have some… water attacks,’ Sanggyun replied, uncertainly. ‘Like in Avatar?’

He made a motion with his hands. Sehyuk finally turned his head to look at him.

‘Well, I mean, this _is_ a fairytale...’ Sanggyun grinned widely, uneasily.

‘He sounds pretty much right,’ Jiho nodded. Sanggyun sent him a grateful look, and he winked.

Sehyuk raised his eyebrows.

‘You can’t be fucking serious,’ he said, and his voice sounded absolutely exasperated.

‘But if it is a fairytale, it shouldn’t be a big deal!’ Sanggyun insisted, encouraged.

‘You know what else is no big deal in fairytales?’ Sehyuk said, looking him dead in the eye. ‘Dying, Sanggyun. People in fairytales of all countires die brutal deaths...’

‘It’s not a folk tale!’ Sangwon interrupted. ‘It’s a fucking modernized, comfy-ass glamorous fairytale with knights, dragons and flying horses! I remember fighting wars, I’m a commander. There’s nothing too scary about it. It’s like playing soldiers.’

‘War is always like playing soldiers to the commanders,’ Sehyuk hemmed, a strange one-sided grin crossing his face. ‘Didn’t you think that is exactly the case?’

Sangwon knitted his eyebrows.

‘What exactly are you suggesting?’ he asked, with pressure.

‘I suggest we go looking for Byungjoo,’ Sehyuk replied, meeting his stare confidently. ‘Yooncheol and his people _know_ where Sangdo is, but where Byungjoo is, no one knows yet. We should give it our all to find him. It’s harder, so it should be addressed first.’

‘So we should just abandon Sangdo?’ Sangwon narrowed his eyes. ‘Do you hear yourself?’

‘No one asks you to _abandon_ anybody,’ Sehyuk hissed through gritted teeth. ‘You yourself are saying that saving Sangdo will be easy. And you’re also saying that Byungjoo is somewhere out there, unsearchable for some reason. Okay, let’s say I believe you. It only validates my plan.’

‘Sangdo is being drained of blood,’ Sangwon started leaning forward slightly, as if to attack. ‘He can faint. He is most probably weak and sleepy, and if he falls asleep we will lose him. And you’re saying he’s not a priority?’

‘Why should we even prioritize someone?’ Jiho shrugged.

‘Because Sangdo’s in fucking _danger_!!!’ Sangwon slapped the pavement.

‘You don’t know in what danger Byungjoo might be!’ Sehyuk slapped his palms on the ground in reply, and raised his voice. ‘He might be dying! For fuck’s sake, he might be dead!’

‘He might be the Old Evil! He might be draining Sangdo of his blood, and you’re saying he’s a priority?’

‘Are you calling him a murdered for no reason?!’ Sehyuk’s voice pitched and broke. The veins on his forehead and neck popped out.

‘Guys, we could just split!’ Jiho raised his voice. ‘Yooncheol and Hansol and Hojoon haven’t even come back yet, we should wait for what they bring!’

‘Oh _fuck Yooncheol!!!’_

A quiet splash drew everyone’s attention instantly. Sanggyun turned to the water – and his gaze met Yooncheol’s surprised eyes. He looked up and saw Hansol, hanging in the air holding on to Hojoon, his wings fluttering desperately.

Yooncheol was the first to break the frozen silence.

‘Yeah, fuck me...’ he muttered, throwing his tail over the edge and coming to sit on the bank, still panting. Hansol lowered Hojoon down onto the ground, and dropped right after him, wiping his forehead and giving out cartoonish noises.

‘What the fuck happened here?’ Yooncheol asked, his voice more weary than angry.

‘They don’t know whom we should look for first, Sangdo or Byungjoo,’ Sanggyun sighed. ‘And that’s turned into quite an argument.’

‘Well, I don’t think there’s much to decide here,’ Yooncheol replied. ‘There will be two teams. One will go fight the Evil, and the other will go with Hansol and try to find Byungjoo. He has some ways of his own.’

‘So you didn’t find him,’ Sehyuk exhaled.

Yooncheol shook his head. He turned to look at him, but Sehyuk averted his eyes. Yooncheol pressed up his lips, barely noticeably, but Sanggyun knew at once that ‘ _fuck Yooncheol’_ got to him.

‘No, we didn’t find him,’ he said, sounding calm. ‘But okay, the lineup is this: to fight the Old Evil we need me, as a merman, to fight with the water force, and we also need a dragon. Who will ride the dragon?’

‘Sehyuk is the only one that can talk to him,’ Sanggyun hurried, sensing Sangwon’s stare.

‘So he is going with us,’ Yooncheol nodded.

‘What?..’

‘I want to fight.’

Everyone turned to the quiet voice. Hojoon looked back at each one in turn from under furrowed brows, and repeated:

‘I want to go and fight. I can lead you all. This is _my_ war, after all. Was supposed to be all along.’

‘Hojoon.’

Hojoon looked to Sehyuk.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, raising his head and giving him a little one-sided smirk. ‘This is a fairytale anyway.’

‘I don’t want you to be part of that,’ Sehyuk said, with pressure. ‘It’s _extremely_ dangerous. I don’t want anyone of you guys to be part of that, and least of all I wanna go myself. This is certain death.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Yooncheol’s quiet voice sounded somehow especially strong.

‘How is it not?’ Sehyuk spat out, getting louder again. Yooncheol perked himself up on his arms, throwing more of his tail out of the water.

‘Do you think I would ask any one of you guys to go and fight if I wasn’t certain of your well-being by the end of it?’ he asked, quietly and hotly, and Sanggyun looked at him again, - and he saw something more than a strange mix of his old friend and a weird underwater creature. Yooncheol was majestic. His pale eyes were piercing holes in Sehyuk’s face. His arms, so thin they were barely there, supported his translucent body, his fins were scarred in a few places, folding and scratching his wet skin – Yooncheol was fragile, and yet he was powerful. There was power in his arms, holding him in place, and in his fingers, grabbing into the pavement, there was power in his heavy tail, there was power in his heart, noticeable now as it was pumping green blood quickly in his chest – and there was power in his stare. He was unbreakable, and Sanggyun felt small and odd.

‘I’ll go with you, Hojoon.’

Sanggyun looked at Sangwon as he stepped out towards Hojoon and straightened. Sanggyun saw the warrior in him again, and as a warrior he was awesome – tan and scarred, and broad, and strong.

‘Are you sure?’ Hojoon squinted slightly at him.

Sangwon nodded.

‘Yep. I hope you aren’t mad at me now, or at least can tolerate me enough to fight alongside me.’

Hojoon huffed.

‘Of course I am mad,’ he dropped, then smiled a little wider, cunningly, challenging.

Sangwon nodded, serious. He glanced over his shoulder to Sehyuk, and his glance was contemptuous.

‘Fine. Then I’m going, too,’ Sehyuk said, but his voice didn’t sound sure at all, and Sanggyun wouldn’t call him cowardly for that.

‘Who’s coming with me?’ Hansol asked, looking around, his eyes quickly meeting Sanggyun’s. Sanggyun glanced at Sehyuk, feeling the need to support him somehow.

‘I am,’ Jiho called. ‘Sehyuk, we’ll find Byungjoo for you, and we’ll do our best.’

‘We sure will!’ Sanggyun smiled, forcedly, as he hurried over to Jiho’s side. Jiho was tall, and he radiated confidence.

‘Fine then, that’s decided,’ Hansol nodded. He looked at Yooncheol, and Yooncheol looked up and back at him. ‘Do you promise me you all are gonna be fine?’

Yooncheol nodded firmly.

‘Absolutely. You heard what the Queen said. We’re enough to fulfill the prophecy. We’re gonna be fine.’

Hansol nodded back at him and turned back to Jiho and Sanggyun.

‘Going?’

* * *

Hansol opened the stable gate and let himself in first, inviting everyone else with a gesture. The dragon’s fidgeting had been heard for a while now, but as Hansol walked in it got louder.

‘He’s uneasy,’ Sehyuk said, thoughtfully, coming in.

‘I’d know that much,’ Sanggyun remarked. ‘Can you maybe talk to him and find out what’s wrong?’

Sehyuk sighed.

‘Animals are more sensitive than people. Maybe he _knows_ it’s a bad idea. Come on, little fella!’

These last words were addressed to the dragon, as Sehyuk hurried to him and caught his huge head. The dragon pressed his nose to Sehyuk’s forehead and hurred something anxious under his breath.

“ _Little” fella, -_ Sanggyun thought. - _Little my ass._

He was distracted by loud neighing.

‘Sinloe, come on, quit!’ Hojoon exclaimed, and Sanggyun glanced to him. The Pegasus was flapping her wings, prancing all around Hojoon and pushing him with her nose. She didn’t look playful however, rather agitated.

Sehyuk raised his head and turned to Sinloe.

‘Sinloe!’ he called. The winged horse stopped her prancing and looked at him, shifting on her legs. ‘Calm down,’ Sehyuk said firmly. ‘You’re gonna be fine, Fine, alright?’

Sinloe jerked her head sharply and neighed. Sehyuk glanced to the dragon, patted his mug and released him. He came up to Sinloe and held his hands out. In a second’s hesitation, she put her head on them and looked Sehyuk in the eyes. They remained almost perfectly still for a few moments more, before Sehyuk stroked Sinloe’s forehead and released her.

‘Hop on, Hojoon,’ he said, sadly. ‘We have to go.’

Something moved in Hojoon’s face. He turned to Sehyuk and opened his mouth to speak – but at that moment a pungent cry pierced through the air .

‘Beware! BEWARE THE MONSTER!’

Then the light faded, and as Sanggyun turned, he  _saw._

The being –  _the apparition –_ was so huge it was taking half of the sky. It was pitch-black, from afar, but as it rapidly approached, Sanggyun realised it wasn’t a solid being – it was a swarm. A swarm of black eyes and hands in constant movement rushed right at him, and he froze, unable to move, paralyzed and fascinated by the overwhelming presence.

A firm hand grabbed his, painfully, squeezing the fingers together, and Sangwon's voice screamed over his ear:

‘Sanggyun, run!!!’

And then he almost fell, as the hand dragged him somewhere, forcing him to take his eyes off the black mass. He turned, with effort, to see where he was running, and almost bumped into Sangwon’s broad back.

‘Quick! To the river!’ he heard Hansol’s muffled scream in his ears, and then the enchantment fell, and he felt his feet hitting the ground desperately. He glanced over his shoulders as they ran out of the stable, and he saw the black wave crash with all strength directly where he had been standing. _Sehyuk. Where is Sehyuk? Where are Hojoon and Sinloe? Where’s the dragon?_

He heard a mighty roar overhead and he glanced up. The dragon swished up, like a red lightning, and he only had time to notice Sehyuk sitting at the base of his neck, where the saddle used to be, leaning towards the scales.

‘Sangwonie, hop on!’ Hojoon’s voice shouted – barely recognizable, loud and pitched; and Sangwon released Sanggyun’s hand, grabbed Hojoon’s – and in a moment more he was on the Pegasus’ back, right behind Hojoon. Sinloe flapped her wings and soared up after the dragon.

‘Guys, hold on to me!’ Hansol called, and Sanggyun looked back in front of himself – at Hansol’s serious, worried face. They were right where they had met Yooncheol, by the stream, but now it wasn’t flowing calmly, but bubbling and splashing.

The next moment Jiho’s big hands grabbed them both, and then Sanggyun was dragged again – this time towards the water.  _No, I don’t want to drown,_ \- flashed in his head, but before he understood what was going on, he was up in the air, no ground under his feet, and then the water fell into his face – except it didn’t, it slipped all the way around and past him, and closed over his head, never touching him. They were in the air bubble, Sanggyun realized, and inhaled sharply, relieved.

Then, Yooncheol’s face appeared in front of him, - eyes wide, teeth clenched between opened lips, - for a brief moment before squishing into his shoulder and pushing them all back, back, until their spines hit something soft. Yooncheol released one hand, grabbing it across his own chest, while still pressing the other into the softness behind them, and looked over his shoulder.

‘You’ll be fine for now,’ he exhaled. ‘Hold on, you guys. I’ll get you to safety, just wait a minute until everyone passes.’

‘Everyone who?’ Sanggyun asked uncertainly.

Yooncheol waved his free hand in the direction Sanggyun was facing, and Sanggyun focused.

There were lots and lots of merpeople swimming quickly past – hundreds, maybe thousands. They were all different shapes and sizes, and some had fish tails, some had snake tails, and some even had shells of huge tortoises. They were moving fast, looking only forward, and the end of the streak didn’t seem anywhere near.

In all this mess, the bubble was quiet and still.

‘That’s the only force we could gather,’ Yooncheol said, quietly, almost apologetically. ‘The bastard sure knows where to attack. The streams and rivers in the fairy land aren’t deep or wide enough to summon whale folks. That’s a great loss.’

‘But there’s a fuckton of them!’ Sanggyun exclaimed, in a whisper.

Yooncheol nodded.

‘Yeah, seems so. But there’s tons more of the beast, as you had the chance to see.’

‘Are we not gonna join the fight?’ Jiho asked, sounding almost disappointed.

Yooncheol shook his head.

‘You guys will need to wait for Hojoon and Sangdo. Wait beside Hansol’s castle, and drag them both in as soon as possible.’

‘How are we gonna gather all together, though?’ Jiho asked, glancing over Yooncheol’s shoulder at the merfolk swimming past.

‘When the beast is defeated, it will be safe,’ Yooncheol said confidently. ‘Look, they passed. Hansol, I will need to push your backs, alright?’

Hansol nodded – Sanggyun noticed droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead and cheeks. He pushed off the softness – the seaweed on the rocks – with his feet, and then Yooncheol’s wet, slippery hands grabbed them all from behind, and he pushed them forward on some unimaginable speed.

* * *

Even by the wall, the battle cries were heard loudly. Yooncheol  pushed himself halfway out of the water, and  rested his chest heavily on the bank, panting. Hansol crouched down beside him and looked into his face.

‘I’m gonna go now,’ Yooncheol said, looking up at him. ‘My gills hurt, and the guys need me. I’ll ask somebody to carry me, on the dragon’s back, or on the Pegasus. If you have time, please, prepare something with water.’

Hansol nodded quickly.

‘Are you gonna be alright?’ he asked, softly, worry in his voice.

Yooncheol nodded firmly.

‘We all are gonna be alright. I’ll come back with all the others, kay? That’s for sure.’

Hansol nodded.

‘Look for Byungjoo in the meanwhile,’ Yooncheol smiled. Hansol nodded and stood up. Yooncheol pushed himself off the bank and disappeared under the water.

They turned and walked off quickly. In between pained cries, seeming closer than they were, heavy silence hung like a sword over their heads. The battle was unfolding so close that the air was thick, filled with tangible, sticky fear.

_Why am I not there? -_ Sanggyun thought, glancing at the huge black mass in the air, changing shapes and giving out impossible screams.

He didn’t want to be there. But even more than that, he didn’t want any one of his friends to be there. Weirdly enough, he understood Sehyuk.

Hansol turned, and turned again, leading the way. He was leaning forward slightly, as he was walking quickly, almost running. Sanggyun looked up – even among the tall buildings of the city he could see the fight going on in the air. He could see the red flash of the dragon, breathing fire, and he could even distinguish tops of huge waves, probably raised by the merpeople. The Old Evil didn’t seem to give, though.

Hansol snapped him back to reality.

‘Come in! Quick!’ he commanded, quietly but firmly, and Sanggyun finally looked in front of himself – at the castle entrance, cracked open barely enough to let them all in. He sighed, cast the last glance at the blackness ripping the sky in two, and slipped in between the doors and into the corridor. Hansol closed the door after them, and hurried to the front again, to lead them.

As soon as they were in his room, Hansol closed the door, raised his hand, and Sanggyun heard a dozen clicking sounds – the door  locked,  s ecuring them from trespassers. Then Hansol waved his had another way, and the floor to their right caved in and lowered down, disappearing completely, but with Hansol’s another manipulation, it rose up again, this time carrying a big dry fountain. Hansol ran up to it, made a few beautiful motions with his hands, and the water splashed out, starting to fill the big round bowl. With that, Hansol turned to Jiho and Sanggyun watching him in quiet amazement, and put his hands on his hips.

‘There is one certain way to look for Byungjoo,’ he said, ‘and it’s by your memories, Sanggyunie. But it’s a dangerous one. I’m gonna need your blood, and quite a bit of it. It’s a desperate measure, and it’s desperate magic, but even the knowledge of merpeople had no answer, so there is a necessity. Although I’ll understand if you don’t want to.’

Sanggyun frowned.

‘What do you mean I don’t want to?! I _have to._ ’

Hansol nodded.

‘Yes, we need it. And if you agree, I promise to be the most careful. But there is a possibility that you’ll pass out, and we don’t need that.’

Sanggyun swallowed bitter saliva.  _What happens if I pass out? -_ he thought. -  _Where will I end up? What will happen to my mind?_

‘But you’ll be careful, right?’ he said, doubtfully.

‘I promise,’ Hansol nodded firmly. ‘And I can heal you if anything goes wrong. But if you don’t want to risk, I’ll understand. We’ll just wait for all the others here. Sometimes time brings the most unexpected answers.’

Sanggyun licked his lips and glanced to Jiho. Jiho accepted his look and shrugged. He didn’t look like he preferred anything. Sanggyun let out a loud breath.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Waiting is shitty. Do your thing.’

Hansol nodded and sighed.

‘I just have to warn you, it’s gonna hurt.’

‘It’s okay.’

‘ _A lot.’_

Sanggyun scoffed.

‘Oh, come on. Quit talking. Do what you need to do.’ _Shut up. Just let me be the hero._

Hansol came up close to him and looked up at him – he seemed even smaller now than he was.

‘Give me your left wrist,’ he said.

Sanggyun turned his hand and held his wrist out – it looked thin and foreign, and he felt uncomfortable in his body. The body of the prince was pale, skinny and exhaustible, and he felt even smaller and weaker next to tall and broad Jiho.

Hansol took his wrist and looked at it carefully.

‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘This is gonna look bad.’

His little fingers ran along the blue line of Sanggyun’s vein, up and down, looking for something – and then they found. Hansol pressed two fingerprints into Sanggyun’s skin, and then thrust – one quick, sharp jerk – and they were under his skin.

It hurt like hell, and Sanggyun wailed quietly, biting down on his lip not to scream. Hansol’s fingers pushed deeper under his skin.

‘Hold on, please,’ he heard his begging voice, and then something warm pressed into his forehead, and Hansol’s fingers found another spot – on his neck this time. ‘Hold on, please! Think about Byungjoo.’

Warm breath hit his face.  Sanggyun felt tears escape his eyes against his will. He tried to concentrate, to recall Byungjoo’s face, his laughter and his constant shouting – but he only could hold it for a brief moment. Strange shining was filling the blackness behind closed eyelids, and Sanggyun forced his eyes open – but he couldn’t see anything.

‘Hansol, what’s wrong?!’ he called desperately.

‘Everything is alright!’ he heard Hansol’s voice, very close. ‘You’re doing fine. He can’t be very far, I almost found him.’

Sanggyun squeezed his eyes shut again, howling quietly, trying not to move.

‘It’s alright!’ Hansol’s voice called. ‘He’s very close!’

At that moment, loud knocking on the door ripped through, and the pain ceased as sharply as it had appeared. Sanggyun fell back, feeling his entirety tremble, and barely registered Hansol leaning over him and pressing his palms over his neck and arm.

‘Jiho, look after him!’ Hansol’s voice said, looking up. ‘I’ll open up. It must be someone of the guys. It _has to be_.’

Sanggyun could almost feel the worry vibrate through Hansol’s throat. He focused, with effort, on the small slim figure, as Hansol raised his hands and unlocked the door. Jiho helped him sit up.

‘How are you?’ he asked softly.

‘Will survive,’ Sanggyun dropped, trying his best to keep straight.

The door to the room flew wide open, and the Pegasus galloped right in. She stopped in the middle of the room, obeying Hojoon’s command, and knelt down. Hojoon grabbed the man he was pressing to his chest,  bridal style, and stood up from Sinloe’s back.

‘Somebody, help him. Quick!’ he exhaled, and his voice was begging more than anything else.

Hansol hurried to him. Hojoon lowered the guy down, and Sanggyun shuffled to his hands and knees to see who it was. He almost knew already.

‘Hey, keep looking at me!’ Hojoon called, and the guy, now lying on the ground, turned his head slightly to his voice. Sanggyun stood up to his knees – and he saw Sangdo.

Or rather, what was left of Sangdo. He didn’t look like a person, he looked like a shadow of a person. His cheeks were nonexistent, and the wide cheekbones so sharp they looked like they could cut his skin  at  any moment. His eyelids were fluttering, struggling to stay open. He was wrapped in wide clothes, once blue and embroidered, but now they were covered almost entirely in something pitch-black and sticky.

‘Sangdo!’

Sanggyun leaned over him and peeked into his face. ‘Hey! Hey there!’

Sangdo squinted sickly, focusing on him. Sanggyun grabbed his face, tapping his cheeks.

‘Hey, man. Hello.’

A little smile touched Sangdo’s lips.

‘Sanggyunie… hello there.’

He took a deep breath, blinking slowly.

‘Stay awake!’ Hojoon called desperately. ‘You guys, is he gonna stay awake much longer?’

Hansol shrugged. 

‘I will do my best to help. If nothing else, I can postpone the moment he passes out as much as possible. You have to fly back?’

Hojoon nodded quickly.

‘I left Sangwon alone. He’s completely out of his mind. I asked Yooncheol and Sehyuk to keep an eye out, but I gotta help him now.

‘We’ll take care of him, Hojoonie,’ Jiho said, firmly.

Hojoon looked up at him.

‘Right?’

Sanggyun glanced to Jiho. Jiho nodded, looking at Hojoon softly, reassuringly.

‘It’s gonna be okay. Hurry. The guys need you.’

Hojoon sighed and pressed up his lips, but nodded. He rose, but Jiho rose with him. Hojoon glanced at him, questioningly. Not saying a word, Jiho stepped toward Hojoon and took him in a quick, tight hug.

Hojoon looked small in Jiho’s arms. He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment, pressing his forehead into the other’s shoulder. Jiho didn’t move, didn’t pat his back, didn’t say anything. Hojoon took a deep breath and pushed back, smiling up at Jiho.

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said.

‘Sure you will,’ Jiho nodded, smiling back. ‘Now go.’

Hojoon hopped to Sinloe’s back, and she rose, turned, and galloped out of the room.

* * *

Hansol glanced up anxiously and waved his hand sharply. The door slammed shut, and all the locks clicked at once, but Hansol wasn’t looking in that direction any more. He looked back down at Sangdo. He threw his hair back, moved his collar away, then his sleeves, examining him.

‘You’re not wounded, are you…’ he muttered.

Sangdo moved his head from side to side, slowly –  _no._

‘Just drained,’ he said, his voice cracked and exhausted. ‘Metaphorically and literally.’

‘Oh you...’

Hansol shook his head, his face a look of pain. He pressed his palms to Sangdo’s chest and took a deep breath.

‘Looks like I’m gonna need to share some life with you,’ he said, quietly.

Sangdo looked away. Hansol closed his eyes, and his hands glowed a soft light. Sanggyun looked around, and his heart nagged dully. They were all heroes there, all majestic and strong, except for him – the hero of the day.

Jiho sighed.

‘Now you could say we have everyone,’ he said quietly. ‘Hansol’s gonna find Byungjoo any moment now, and we’ll all gather together.’

Sanggyun gasped.

‘Hansol!’

Hansol opened his eyes and looked at Sanggyun. Sanggyun shuffled to him and grasped his arm.

‘Come on, Hansol, quick! You almost located Byungjoo. You gotta find him now, quickly, and then I’ll go and fetch him, and you can help Sangdo while I’m away.’

Hansol’s hands didn’t move an inch on Sangdo’s chest.

‘Sanggyunie, this is important,’ he said, quietly but firmly. ‘This is gonna be quick, and then we’ll find Byungjoo. Just when we’re sure Sangdo is okay.’

Sanggyun pulled at his arm frantically, but it was solid like stone.

‘Hansolie!..’

Hansol shook his head.

‘Sanggyunie, not right now.’

Sanggyun looked into his eyes pleadingly –  _just let me be a hero, just for once, at least in my own story!_

Hansol accepted his look with a slight shrug, then closed his eyelids slowly, and his hands glowed a little brighter.

Sanggyun released his forearm,  and his hands fel l heavily down. He opened his mouth to say something – he wasn’t sure what.

At that moment, there was a flash – just a soundless splash of white light, a wave that threw them all to the ground – and then there was such silence that Sanggyun thought he was deaf.

* * *

The white light dissolved as Sanggyun blinked quickly, returning to his senses. Nothing and nobody moved around him, scattered around the floor in strange poses. It took Sanggyun barely a couple of seconds to gather himself together. He shuffled to his hands and knees, brushing away tiny tears, unexpected and unbidden.

‘Guys!’ he cried, not expecting to hear a sound – but his cry pierced the silence, and everything immediately came into motion.

The dragon’s roar responded to Sanggyun’s  shout , and then repeated, closer.  Joyous yells  and splashing filled the air. Hansol jumped to his feet and hurried to check on Sangdo. Jiho sat up, shaking his head, and Sanggyun knelt down beside him.

‘They did it,’ Jiho said, smiling at Sanggyun – and he had to smile back, catching the same sadness in Jiho’s eyes.

_They..._

Loud clicking of hooves upon the floor sounded behind the door, and then  came  a demanding knock.

‘Hansol, open up!’ Jiho called, but Hansol already raised his arm, holding Sangdo asit with the other. The doors opened wide, letting in Sinloe carrying Hojoon and Sangwon on her back. Jiho jumped to his feet and hurried to them.

‘Guys!’

Sinloe knelt down, letting her riders slide down, into Jiho’s open embrace and greeting kisses. Sangwon scoffed him away, laughing, and Hojoon bore the affections stoically, looking at Hansol with a little smirk.

‘Where are Sehyuk and Yooncheol?’ Hansol called. ‘Are they okay?’

‘Sehyuk jumped off the dragon’s back in the middle of the fight,’ Sangwon threw, taking off his shirt and wiping sweat off his forehead. ‘Right before the dragon flew high enough to burn the monster down. He fell into the water, and I’m pretty sure I saw Yooncheol catch him. The fucker deserted us.’

‘He was saving his own life,’ Hojoon snapped, ‘which we needed more than dumb and unnecessary heroism. Moreover, it was much more convenient for the dragon to fly and breathe fire without him to carry.’

‘He wouldn’t have died. Nobody died, and nobody could. He just escaped.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Hojoon dropped, sending him a murderous look. ‘If nobody could have died, there’s nothing for you to fuss about. Hansol, you guys fine?’

Hansol glanced down to Sangdo, who  nodded wearily back , and smiled at Hojoon.

‘Guess so.’

A small, questioning roar sounded from just outside the castle. Sanggyun jumped up to his feet and hurried out of the door. Nobody  followed  him.

He almost bumped into the dragon’s head as he ran out of the castle and into the street,  but he wasn’t half as scared any more.  The huge mug looked at him with its dozen eyes, blinking sweetly, and tried to nuzzle up. Sanggyun lashed back,  more instinctively than fearfully,  but the dragon didn’t insist. He turned and dropped his belly to the ground. The long, wavy figure slid down the red scales, and dropped down with a slippery slurp, and then another one followed suit, jumping down  easily and springily . Sanggyun recognized Yooncheol and Sehyuk at once, and hurried to them.

‘Have you seen that?’ Yooncheol called happily, struggling to perk himself up as high as he could on his arms. ‘That was simply majestic!’

Sehyuk grabbed Yooncheol under the arms and raised his upper part, groaning with effort.  Yooncheol slumped down, laughing.

‘Sanggyunie, help me carry him inside!’

‘There’s no need to!’ a voice called from behind Sanggyun’s back, and as he turned, he saw all the others – even Sangdo was standing on his feet, albeit shakily, supported by Jiho.

‘That was indeed majestic,’ Hojoon remarked. ‘When the wave of water rose high enough to meet the fire from the sky, there was such a shine!

‘That white flash?’ Sanggyun looked at him.

‘No-no,’ Sehyuk replied instead of Hojoon. ‘Before that. When water and fire met, there was such an incredible shine. Before I hit the water, I glimpsed it. Everything froze and there was nothing but that shine, and...’

‘Everything felt eternal,’ Yooncheol finished, breathily.

‘Before you hit the water and hid,’ Sangwon spat out.

Sanggyun sighed and glanced to the dragon. He didn’t hear what Sehyuk had replied. There was another fight starting, and he didn’t want any part in it. He was feeling endlessly sad and tired. His wrists and neck nagged vaguely, reminding him he was no hero in his own story.

The dragon, forgotten and silent, raised his head and looked Sanggyun in the eye. Sanggyun sighed and stepped out of the starting fight. The dragon lowered his head down, and waited, the stare of his dozen eyes on Sanggyun.

‘You’re a nice fellow, ha...’

Sanggyun looked down and sighed. He came up to the dragon’s head and  glanced up at him. The dragon’s stare down was deep and sentient. Sanggyun raised his hand, a little hesitantly, and put it onto dragon’s nose. The dry scaly skin was warm and pleasant to the touch. Sanggyun smiled.

_I was scared of you, buddy._

‘You seem to be a very nice beast, actually,’ he said aloud, looking up at the dragon.

The huge head jerked away  sharply , and the dragon blinked his dozen eyes frantically and  nonsynchronously. Sanggyun frowned. The dragon sat back and shook his head, then leaned down to look at Sanggyun closely, and then gave out a  mighty roar. His tail hit the ground, shattering something intricate and openwork with loud clatter.

Sanggyun stepped back, and then again, glancing at the others. The fight had  ceased momentarily as Sehyuk turned to the dragon and listened intently, his eyes widening. The dragon roared again, this time sounding weirdly almost pleadingly, and his tail crashed into the wall of a building.

‘Sanggyunie!’

Sanggyun turned to Sehyuk’s voice.

‘Sanggyunie, I know his voice!’ Sehyuk shouted. ‘This is Byungjoo! THE DRAGON IS BYUNGJOO!’

At that moment, the dragon gave another roar, and rose to his back legs, waving the two front pairs in the air frantically.

‘He’s been shot!’ Hansol exclaimed. He threw his wings open and soared up, and the next moment a dozen arrows hit an invisible wall in front of the raging dragon.

‘Don’t shoot!’ Hansol’s voice sounded over their heads, louder than they were used to ever hearing it, amplified by magic.

Byungjoo the dragon gave another pained roar and almost fell back, but hit something invisible, and lowered softly down into the free space between the buildings.

‘Sehyuk, calm him down!’ Sanggyun called. ‘How the fuck could this have happened?!’

‘Fucked if I know!’ Sehyuk dropped over his shoulder, running towards the dragon’s head. ‘Byungjoo! Byungjoo, wait, don’t move!’

‘He won’t,’ Hansol’s loud voice called from overhead. ‘I’m holding him steady. Be quick, Sehyukie!’

Sehyuk fell to his knees before the dragon’s head and threw his arms around the huge mug. Byungjoo gave a pained groan that reduced into a human sob. Sanggyun’s heart throbbed at the sound.

* * *

By the river just outside the fairy town wall the evening was descending. The eight men and the dragon gathered together, but not in one tight circle or spread out here and there, like before. There was tension between them, so thick it made the air heavy.

Byungjoo was lying heavily on his side, not moving any more, blinking his eyes slowly. Sehyuk hid his face between the front pair of his legs, and was sitting as still.

_I told you we had to look for him better! We had to look for him at once! Hansol almost found him, they had to have just a little more time!’_

Sangwon was lying down, staring at the sky, as far from the dragon as he could get. His face was twitching slightly now and then.

_You are disgusting. You’re a fucking coward, and we all now know whom you prefer, and whom you will gladly abandon!’_

Jiho and Hojoon were sitting together, talking quietly, glancing at the others every now and then – Jiho with a little sadness and worry, and Hojoon with annoyance.

‘ _You can call him whatever you want, Sangwon, but not a coward. He was the key part of this entire story, and if nothing else he HELPED the fucking dragon by jumping down!’_

‘ _Guys, you need to stop, can’t you see no one is making any preference? We were just all concerned, no, we were scared and anxious, and that showed pretty violently, but you gotta calm down now!’_

Hansol was brushing his fingers absently through Sangdo’s hair. Sangdo was lying with his head on his lap, and his gaze in to the distance was sad. 

‘ _Does it even matter now, you guys? You found me, and you found Byungjoo, and we gotta just be happy with what we have! Really, is there even anything to talk about? I’m begging you, just calm down, I don’t want to see you like that!’_

‘ _Please! Sangwonie! Sehyukie! We have things much more important to think about!’_

Yooncheol was lying on the grass, his gills dry and looking sore. He was breathing with effort, and his look was filled with such ennui Sanggyun didn’t even dare to look into his face for more than a second.

_You’re both being jerks! You’re wasting your and our precious time! You’re accusing each other of making preferences, but you are just breaking us apart! Shut up!’_

Sanggyun passed each one in turn, giving out sleeping pills.  _What to sum up the day? -_ he thought darkly.  _\- I’m not even the hero of my own story. Sehyuk is the key part of it, and everyone does something good and important – except for me. I’m good for nothing, not even for finding Byungjoo, or whoever._ But this wasn’t the most important thing he worried about. Sangwon’s words sounded in his head:  _‘_ _T_ _he more I look at us, the less it’s clear to me how we’re gonna manage it. There’s so much going on, and I’d much rather sort it out if we have to keep on together – and there’s no time for that’._ Everything was falling apart before Sanggyun’s eyes, and he could do nothing about it. The only one who seemed to understand his feelings was Jiho, but he was talking to Hojoon, and even his kind hands patting Sanggyun’s shoulder couldn’t calm him down.

He swallowed the pill dry, lay down onto the ground and closed his eyes. _Take me away, -_ he begged. -  _Take me away from here._

The sleep was merciful and it heard his prayers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, SO sorry this is taking me so long! The workload on me is enormous right now, together with social activism. But here you are. I love you all. Thanks for being patient. <3


	5. Byungjoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the sulking Byungjoo:  
> http://tom-failure.tumblr.com/post/165045359818/there-must-have-been-something-else-hero-number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They taught us well, we were first in our classes,  
> We learned to see through many glasses.
> 
> Jason Webley – Ways to Love

_Take me away from…_

‘Byungjoo!’

Byungjoo frowned, not opening his eyes, desperately grasping at the dream slipping away. In his dream, he was flying over green fields and clear rivers, observing them from the skies, and the feeling of freedom, born in his belly, was the most pleasant feeling he had ever experienced.

‘Byungjoo!!!’

The shaking and nudging got violent, forcing Byungjoo’s mind out of the in-between haze, but his body was slow to awake. He opened his eyes – and squeezed them shut again. The white light hit him cruelly.

‘Byungjoo, wake up, for fuck’s sake!’ a voice whispered loudly right over his ear.

‘I’m awake, I’m awake, I’m coming,’ Byungjoo mumbled, forcing his one eye open, and starting to feel the numb pain in his shoulder, neck and belly. Only now did he realize he was standing, his weight shifted on one foot, his upper body dropped uncomfortably over a counter.

The pose was awkward, getting unbearable. Byungjoo pushed himself off the counter to stand straight, but had to lean forward on his elbows again.

‘Ugh...’

‘What the fuck, man?!’ a female voice whispered scoldingly. ‘A customer might just walk in now, and then what?’

‘A customer?’ Byungjoo managed, opening his second eye and squinting at the direction of the voice. He distinguished a blurry figure, quite wide, rather tall, and dressed in brown, and he squinted harder, but couldn’t see much clearer.

_When did I start seeing THIS badly?_

‘Byungjoo, come on!’ the voice urged, and Byungjoo finally gathered strength to straighten. _Where am I?.._

His hand bumped into something plastic, and he turned to look at it instinctively. He distinguished something dark on the counter, vaguely glasses-shaped.

_Glasses…_

He grabbed them and brought them closer to his eyes – this way he could see them much better, those were certainly glasses.  _Really dumb ones, too._

He put them on, and blinked a couple times. He was now facing a tall, plump girl in a brown apron, a short-sleeved shirt  peeking from under it . Her arms were crossed on her chest, and her dark hair was tied into a bun.

‘Awake now?’ she asked, more impatiently than angrily.

‘Guess so,’ Byungjoo nodded, looking around in surprise.

_Where the fuck am I?_

He was in a big room, standing behind a counter, facing some tables with chairs around them. The entire scene looked like a cafe of sorts. Byungjoo squinted.  _Why the fuck am I in a cafe?.._

A dragon. The vision came to him like a flash, making him gasp – and he saw a much wider world, coming into sight in big panoramas. He felt a pair of wings and three pairs of legs, and a tail, and fire burning in the pit of his chest.

A prisoner. He remembered scars and wounds, and hunger, and fallen off nails. He remembered the hatred – from others, and from himself.

A school troublemaker. Sangwon’s face appeared in front of him, mouth opened trying to catch some air, eyes popping out, staring madly at him.

He recoiled, leaning onto the counter and grabbing at his head.

_Oh goodness. Oh fuck. The game. This fucking game, that’s where I am._

‘He-ey, are you feeling alright?’ the girl’s voice asked over his head. ‘Byungjoo, come on, hey!’

_Oh goodness. Oh Jesus._

‘I’m fine,’ he managed. ‘Head hurts. I stood up a little too sharply, y’know...’

‘Oh man,’ a hand tapped his shoulder. ‘What’ve you been doing yesterday to fall asleep at work? Must’ve been studying, right? You’re working yourself clear off your feet, you gotta be careful...’

She was speaking with an accent resembling Yooncheol's. Byungjoo straightened, rubbing his temple with one hand and fixing his glasses with the other.

‘Yeah, been studying,’ he replied, staring at the girl looking for a badge with a name. She actually had one, pinned on her chest. Park Mina. ‘It’s been really hectic these days.’

Mina sighed.

‘Yeah, I know. You wanna go rest at the back? I’ll cover for you.’

Byungjoo took off his glasses again and rubbed his eyes hard with the base of his palm.

‘Nah, I’m good.’ _I need to find my guys when they come across._

_IF they come across?.._

Mina nodded.

‘Alright. If you need any help, you just say so. I understand the struggle.’

Byungjoo nodded absently, glancing around.  _So I work here, ha. So I’m a barista._

‘If you wanna, you can just take the orders for a little bit,’ Mina suggested, leaning onto the counter. ‘You look terrible, you know, I wanna help somehow. It’s not busy right now, and I don’t mind.’

Byungjoo managed a smile.

‘Yeah, that’d be nice. Thank you.’

She reflected his smile, and he felt easier. At least now, he figured, he could watch what Mina was doing for a little while and pick up how she did it. He remembered coming over to see Hansol when he was working part-time at a cafe, but he wasn’t very attentive when Hansol was bragging about his new skills. Back then, it didn’t seem useful to him. Now he cursed himself for such carelessness.

He moved his shoulders, straightening. He could still feel his wings, like amputees felt their limbs which were not there any more. He missed the wings a bit.

The door opened, letting in the sounds of the city just for a brief moment. Two girls came in, along with a middle-aged man. Byungjoo straightened at the counter, putting on a sweet smile. He suddenly felt discouraged.  _Imagine that these are fans, -_  he told himself. _Act natural._

He accepted the orders and money, - that turned out easier than he had imagined, -  and the customers went to take their seats. The girls occupied the table right at the window, and the man headed off to another one towards the back of the room. There, he sat down, took out his laptop, and started drumming on the keys, typing.

‘A lavender latte. Then a grapefruit lemonade with double ice,’ Byungjoo said, turning to face Mina. ‘And an Americano with milk.’

She nodded and turned away from him and to the coffee machine. Byungjoo pushed off the counter, and leaned onto the table in the back, watching Mina’s quick hands, her plump fingers with short pastel pink nails moving, pressing, stirring as she made coffee. He tried to memorize what she did, in between glancing  at the direction of the door every now and then. He had to be useful. He had to look part and parcel of this universe. He had to adapt.

‘No sight of your dove yet, huh?’ Mina remarked quietly, with a slight smile, not looking up.

‘Huh?’ Byungjoo frowned.

‘That guy, you know. That mysterious sulking stranger...’

Byungjoo frowned harder, looking away,  as if trying to recall, although he knew full well he couldn’t .

‘What guy?!’

Mina laughed and finally looked at him.

‘Oh come on. You can be honest with me. I know everything about you. Do you miss him?’

Byungjoo scoffed.

‘Not at all, happy not to see his ass anywhere near.’

‘I get it, I get it. I’m shutting up,’ Mina’s voice was smiling as she poured a pretty pink drink into a glass of ice. ‘Call out the lemonade, will you?’

Byungjoo accepted the glass from her hands carefully.

‘Please, take grapefruit lemonade,’ he called, remembering everything he knew about how coffee shops worked.

The middle-aged man rose from his seat and came over for his lemonade. Byungjoo stepped back and bowed in response to his thanks.

‘Byungjoo, americano with milk and lavender latte,’ Mina called from behind his back.

Byungjoo called out thoughtlessly, and watched  one of the girls take both coffee cups and bring them over to her friend.

A young man rose from the table at the further end of the room and left slowly. His face was unfamiliar. Byungjoo caught himself wondering if he had noticed his falling asleep. The sounds of the city peeked in for an instant more, and then everything was quiet again. Barely distinguishable music was murmuring into Byungjoo’s ears, the few people were chattering. The sounds from the street reached him ever so vaguely. Byungjoo liked that mixture, turning into quiet even buzzing. It made it comfortable to think.

_The fucking game…_

Since the beginning, Byungjoo had been wondering one thing:  _who?_ He didn’t even care that much about  _why_ it was done – he was certain that if he knew exactly  _who,_ he would know  _why_ at once. He just needed that person. He needed to punch them. He needed to pour out his rage, to bring it down on  _them,_ and not on himself, for once.

He felt a numb itch at the tops of his thighs, and reached his hand involuntarily – not to scratch, but to rub. The gesture was habitual and thoughtless, but he suddenly became very aware of it. He knew the itch was probably a phantom feeling. The reality couldn’t be repeating in the fake universe – at least not that accurately. He pressed up his lips.  The universes stirred things in him he didn’t want stirred. He had hidden them inside, tamped them down and preserved them, and he had thought he was long done with them – but he wasn’t. He didn’t want to accept that fact.

_I’m a monster._

_I’m a criminal._

_I could kill a person, if the circumstances were right – and I can do nothing about it._

His bladder reminded him about its existence with a meaningful sensation.

‘Mina?’

‘Yeah?’

She raised her head and glanced at him.

‘I need to go for a second.’

Mina nodded.

‘Yeah, alright. You go. Pee for me, if you don’t mind.’

Byungjoo nodded absently, cracking a smile. He walked out from behind the counter, looked around and found the door to the toilet.

* * *

 

As he locked himself in and looked around, he found himself in a little, creamy white, well-lit space. A big mirror on the wall beside the toilet was ridiculous as an idea, but added space and reflected light. It was tempting, a thought to just stay here, to hide away.

He pulled up his brown apron and unzipped his jeans. The vague itching was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want to look at his thighs. He stared in front of himself as he got down to his business.  _I’m alright,_ \- he told himself.  _It’s just like feeling the wings. I can still feel them, right? But it doesn’t mean they’re there. No, it doesn’t._

He could see his blurred, vague reflection in the smooth wall behind the toilet. He reached out and ripped off a little bit of toilet paper.

_I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m in control._

He zipped up and grabbed the rim of his jeans, finding the button with his fingers. He focused on the little things: the sounds, the sensations, the colours... Then he stopped. There was a little sting in his right thigh, and then faint pulsing of pain. S omething broke in his stomach and fell down. He tried to swallow a lump in his throat as he pulled his jeans back down and sat onto the toilet. He was wearing loose long pants – he never liked those in reality, but by the state of them he guessed that in this universe he could hardly afford any better.

He bit down onto his lip as he took the fabric between his finger and thumb and slowly, slowly moved his pants up. Then – _fuck it! -_ he pulled them up at once.

For a few seconds he just stared blankly at his leg, trying to believe what he saw.  The image made him feel like the earth crumbled under his feet.  His upper thigh was covered entirely in parallel scratches, healing and itchy. There was a little band-aid stuck below them. Byungjoo put his elbows onto his lap and buried his face in his hands.

He had been doing this for God knows how long. Every time he felt he was a threat to those around him, every time he felt like his anger could harm someone, he went off to hide, and he did it. His hands itched to do it. He hated himself for doing it. It was better, though, he told himself. Better than hurting the others.

It was, indeed. But it didn’t exactly make Byungjoo feel any better. Only one person in the world, beside himself, knew he was doing that.  And h e remembered the day he found out.

He stood to his feet, pulled his trousers up and fixed his clothes. As he turned the water on and shoved his hands under the cold stream, he froze for a few seconds, staring at the water running. Yes, he remembered.  Remembered a little too well.

He had a huge  argument  with Sangwon that day. They were both getting way too angry, threatening to start a fight.  As was expected, Byungjoo broke the first. He remembering spitting some ugly words into  Sangwon’s face, something about him, and about his mother, and about his home and his abilities. And then he ran away. And he locked himself up in the toilet.

He remembered Sehyuk’s voice outside, shouting at Sangwon to calm down. He remembered Sangdo and Yooncheol joining in. They dragged Sangwon away eventually, in three they managed him. He heard Sangwon’s voice changing from furious to indignant, then to offended, and then finally to indifferent. They walked away, he remembered their steps. Everything got quiet. That’s when he pulled out a pin he had on the inside of his pocket at all times. He remembered pulling his trousers down and digging the needle into the clean patch of skin in between long ragged scratches, - without hesitation. He remembered ripping furiously through the skin. He knew he was imagining a knife in his hand, and instead of his leg there was Sangwon’s throat.

He remembered Sehyuk’s voice calling his name, and how he pulled his legs in and curled up on the toilet seat, trying to hold still not to stain his tee in blood. The voice behind the cabin door was anxious for some reason, and it was getting louder. For a moment, back then, he had thought Sehyuk already knew. Just for a moment. There were sounds of doors being thrown open. And then – then there was a blow, and a shitload of sound. And then Sehyuk’s face.

He thought a lot about that day afterwards – but for some reason the thing he remembered best of all was how Sehyuk saw him. He could imagine it clearly: a shaky shadow of a person, pale, with cheeks flushed, was curled up on the closed toilet lid, trousers pushed down, hiding his needle in the folds of fabric. He was ashamed of that image still. It shouldn’t have looked like that. It was not like it was in movies. There was nothing beautiful or romantic about it - and even nothing to be sympathetic for. Sehyuk walked into the toilet cabin, inclined his head to the side, and asked:

‘ _The hell you doing here?’_

His voice wasn’t angry – if anything, it was terrified, although his face was more or less calm. Byungjoo remembered curling up tighter and hissing:

‘ _Waiting for you to fuck off!’_

‘ _You mind pulling your jeans up at least?’_

‘ _Turn around.’_

‘ _No?’_

Looking back at it, Byungjoo could hardly explain Sehyuk’s actions with anything else than a weird kind of intuition.

‘ _Go away,’_ he tried again, but Sehyuk shook his head.

‘ _If you have anything to hide, I better know about it before someone gets hurt.’_

‘ _What if someone already did?’_ Byungjoo snapped.

He was trying his best to be sharp and prickly, but some part of him desperately wanted Sehyuk to  _know._

‘ _Especially then,’_ Sehyuk nodded. His face was serious and concerned.

Byungjoo had already figured out what he had to do. He stared into Sehyuk’s eyes, and Sehyuk, competitive as he was, bore the stare confidently. His expression was unreadable. Byungjoo grabbed his trousers readily and lowered his feet quickly, until he felt the floor, then rose sharply, keeping up a challenging stare into Sehyuk’s eyes.

That’s where Sehyuk fucked up. He didn’t follow Byungjoo’s plan. He didn’t maintain eye contact. He wasn’t up to battle. He glanced down, examining Byungjoo head to toe – and Byungjoo, taken aback by this sudden change of plan, pulled his jeans up just a little too late.

Sehyuk’s expression froze, and he blinked slowly.

‘ _Is that… what I think that is?’_ he asked, carefully, his eyes glued to Byungjoo's thighs.

‘ _Depends on what you think you saw!’_ Byungjoo tried his best to be sharp and unwelcoming, but his voice cracked.

‘ _You are cutting yourself.’_

This was not a question. This was a statement, a quiet, but a strong one. Byungjoo never thought of it this way: clearly and straightforwardly. In his head, it was called ' _doing that',_ but when Sehyuk told him just  _what_ he was doing, it was like a bucket of cold water on his head. Dumbfounded, he looked down, losing his prickly facade instantly, and cursed himself. He needed to flee, but his knees were trembling and refused to obey. Vexed, he zipped his jeans in one quick jerk, buttoned up and took a step towards the cabin door – but Sehyuk turned sharply around, hurried out, and Byungjoo heard a sound of a doorknob being turned. Sehyuk had locked them both in.

He knew he  _needed_ to flee, but, deep inside, he didn’t  _want_ to. He froze at the door of the cabin, stooped, staring down at his worn out knickers, trying to tame his ragged breathing. He listened to Sehyuk’s steps approach, until he stopped in front of Byungjoo, a bit too close for comfort.

Byungjoo remembered waiting – for anything. Anything  _bad._ Sehyuk inhaled, as if to say something. Then he exhaled, and Byungjoo could almost hear the unasked question hit the ground.

_Why?_

There was a little bit more heavy silence, then Sehyuk took in another loud breath. Byungjoo remember curling his toes up in his sneakers. Sehyuk exhaled again.

_How long?.._

Another unasked question shattered at Byungjoo’s feet.

‘ _How?’_ Sehyuk asked, quietly.

‘ _Different ways,’_ Byungjoo shrugged. ‘ _You sure you wanna know?’_

‘ _I’m… not sure,’_ Sehyuk replied, slowly. ‘ _No use telling you not to do it again, right?’_

Byungjoo smiled weakly, not looking up.

‘ _You answered yourself.’_

Sehyuk sighed. He raised his hand – and dropped it back, not touching Byungjoo. He turned around, went back, and hopped to sit on the counter by the washbasins. He buried his face in his hands and sat unmoving. He said nothing. As Byungjoo dared look up, he didn’t raise his head. Byungjoo was free to flee, the way to the door was clear, he could just unlock it and go. He was certain Sehyuk wouldn’t tell anybody. He wasn’t one to do that.

But Byungjoo didn’t flee. He walked up to Sehyuk slowly, hopped onto the countertop beside him and put his elbows on his knees. There was no going back from there.

‘ _What are you making of this all?’_ he asked, after a little more silence.

‘ _I’m thinking about where I fucked up so much,’_ Sehyuk said, his voice muffled slightly behind his palms. ‘ _How I missed. And WHAT I missed. I...’_ he took a deep breath. ‘ _I know that shit doesn’t help, but I’m sorry. I really am.’_

And something inside Byungjoo just burst. And he told Sehyuk why it wasn’t his fault, and what he couldn’t have  _not_ missed, even if he wanted to. He told him,  _why,_ and  _how long,_ and he even told him  _how_ . Sehyuk listened quietly, not raising his head, never interrupting. He let Byungjoo talk and talk and talk, until all the words ran out. And then he looked up, and that was how Byungjoo found out how Sehyuk looked when he cried.

That had been a little exchange of secrets, and Byungjoo kept Sehyuk’s as faithfully as Sehyuk kept his own. When the story was done, Sehyuk asked just one thing.

‘ _Is there any way to keep the process in control? To tame your anger before it blows up?’_

Byungjoo hadn’t known then, and he still didn’t know now. That’s what he told Sehyuk, truthfully. Sehyuk nodded to himself and didn’t ask any more.

At the door, in one fit of held back anger, Sehyuk had grabbed him and gave him a blow – it landed heavily on his cheekbone, and it hurt, but Byungjoo felt relief rather that anger. All the tension dropped at once and he felt pungently that Sehyuk still saw him the same, as himself, and not a frail flower worthy of nothing but protection.

‘Don’t you dare call Sangwon what you called him again!’ Sehyuk hissed into his face. ‘Go and apologize, you got me?’

Byungjoo nodded. His fury had worn out. He was okay with apologizing now. He didn’t want to fall out with Sangwon for long. Sehyuk blew another breath into his face, and then grabbed him and held him to his chest. And Byungjoo hugged him back. Somehow now, beside Sehyuk, - Sehyuk, lost, irresponsible and cowardly (he like the word ‘sensible’ more), - Byungjoo felt safe and at home. He couldn’t quite explain that feeling.

The next day Sehyuk left a punching bag by the door of Byungjoo’s studio, and that was about the best he could offer.

He had known about Sehyuk’s  _thing_ for him for a while then. He wasn’t sure of what nature the  _thing_ was, or if he could reciprocate. When he thought about it, he felt that just maybe he could.

_But not now. Not until I’m all sorted out. Not until I’m not dangerous any more._

Byungjoo stopped the water and wiped his hands with napkins – it took quite a lot of them. Finally he opened the door and walked out. Mina raised her head as he walked in behind the counter, and shook her head.

‘Are you sure you don’t need to get some sleep?’

Byungjoo shook his head.

‘Absolutely. I’m fine. Will be okay.’

‘As you wish.’

A little company of teenagers walked in and he had to take their orders. As they settled at a table not far away from the bar, the room filled with their loud chatter. Byungjoo passed the orders to Mina and mindlessly offered to start working normally.

_I need to be useful. I work here. I need to act it._

Thankfully, Mina didn’t pay much attention to his clumsiness, probably excusing him with lack of sleep and rigorous studying. She accepted what little help he could offer, and again told him to call out the drinks that were ready. The teenagers grabbed their orders and strode off to their table, bubbly and loud. Behind the counter everything got quiet once again. Byungjoo turned around and let Mina out to go to the toilet. Himself, he took a wet cloth and cleaned the table. As the two girls got up and walked out, he went to collect their cups and saucers. It was easy to think now that the customers were few. Byungjoo had been thinking a lot lately, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

Sehyuk had started with talking to him whenever he could. Sometimes he was more intrusive, sometimes less. Byungjoo didn’t always mind. At length, Sehyuk got down to convincing him to get therapy. He was caring enough to want to help, and smart enough to understand he couldn’t. Byungjoo appreciated the effort. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money – he sure did. But he liked to tell himself he was in control.

‘ _I don’t want to tell anybody. I really – you know it was a one-time thing, when I told you, right? Just the right timing. It was accidental. I really don’t want anyone else to know. I just really, really don’t wanna talk about this again.’_

That was true, and Sehyuk understood. But he insisted on trying, and sometimes Byungjoo ran out of arguments he could utter. There were ones he couldn’t share even with Sehyuk. Being honest with himself, he was simply scared.

_They will think me dangerous. They will isolate me, lock me up and hide me away._

He had convinced himself that his sheer will not to become a monster was enough, and that if he didn’t succeed it was purely his fault and he had to try harder.

Sehyuk always made sure they parted calmly, and didn’t fall out. Byungjoo knew Sehyuk cherished him. And there hardly was anyone in their company who understood Sehyuk quite as well and Byungjoo did. Maybe Sangdo, and even about that he wasn’t sure. Sehyuk wasn’t one to share much, he was trying to maintain a facade, to be a big person – but while his ever-rival Hojoon could do that effortlessly, Sehyuk had troubles. Byungjoo could see right trough him: feeling guilty and owing and responsible as the eldest – and just wanting to be free to grow on his own. Speaking of growing, he knew a few of their friends were much more mature than Sehyuk. He would never say that to him, though. He was sure Sehyuk knew that, and didn’t like that much.

He took orders and payment from two young men. One of them vaguely reminded him of Hansol for a moment, but he quickly realized he was just seeing things. Mina had returned, and she got down to pouring two cold brews. Free for another minute, Byungjoo looked at the profile of the boy against the window, and nodded to himself. No, he was not Hansol. He was slightly taller, and his eyes were more drooping, and his nose longer.

Hansol…

When it wasn’t yet that bad, Byungjoo had been in love with Hansol. He wasn’t afraid to admit it to himself – or to anyone else, if the topic arose. It wasn’t shameful to fall in love with Hansol, it was only natural. Everyone had been in love with him, he thought absently, even if just platonically. There was just something about him, something about the first impression.

But only the first. Byungjoo’s passion had long worn out. Hansol wasn’t as reserved as he was, he didn’t keep facades, and all of his tricks were clear – they worked solely thanks to his pretty face and his sincere, childish nature. They were a little too alike in some ways, but, unlike Byungjoo, Hansol  _wanted_ to be helped. Byungjoo couldn't offer help, and he figured Hansol himself couldn’t either. He was comforting, yes, nice to talk to, understanding and honest. But his constant mood swings and crippling anxiety were driving Byungjoo to the edge, and he quickly abandoned all thoughts of getting closer to Hansol than he already was as his friend.

Sangwon, however… Byungjoo gave out a loud huff as he called out two cold brews. He didn’t know when and how Sangwon had got such a saviour complex. He tried to talk him out of that, he tried a lot, and sometimes they ended up fighting. Sangwon probably thought Byungjoo wanted Hansol for himself, and he didn’t want to listen to his explanations. He was sure he could save Hansol, he wanted to be the prince on the white steed, he wanted to be the saving knight.

Byungjoo sighed. He loved Sangwon a lot. He always considered him the smartest, despite being the youngest. He was really quick-witted and present, he was insightful and he grasped at the very root, he could see deep into people and things, he was brilliant. But this once love had made him blind, and Byungjoo couldn’t help. And it made him mad, and he hated Sangwon for that.

Mina nudged him with her elbow, and Byungjoo turned to her.

‘Hey, come on, don’t be brooding like this,’ Mina said, inclining her head to the side. ‘Now I’m sure there’s more to it than just lack of sleep. I know people can’t sleep when they’re unhappy. And your guy still hasn’t showed up… did you ask him out at last and get rejected?’

Byungjoo shook his head.

‘No-no, I didn’t. It’s just that… hard times, you know.’

He wasn’t even lying, but Mina nodded knowingly.

‘I know, man. I know. You’re trying so hard. You probably need to stop feeding that hobo out of your own pocket.’

‘The hobo?’ Byungjoo glanced at her, trying to hide his confusion.

Mina sighed.

‘Yeah, yeah. I know. You’re kind, you wanna help. But really, what good will it do if helping him like this leaves you broke? You’re not the only nice person in the world. Somehow he survived until now.’

Byungjoo sighed.

‘Yeah, guess you’re right.’

Mina gave him a little pat on the forearm.

‘Take care of yourself, Byungjoo.’

‘I will,’ Byungjoo nodded, smiling. ‘Listen, I’m curious. Tell me, what are you making of the guy you ship me with?’

‘Oh, you want a fanfic?’ Mina laughed, quietly but heartily. Byungjoo didn't smile, however, just raised his eyebrows, so she shrugged: ‘The guy is deeply unhappy, I think. At least that’s what he looks like. Always brooding, always dark, never a smile.’

Byungjoo smirked.

‘And why would you think a person like me would want a person like him?’

Mina shrugged.

‘Well, given that you always try to help people, it seemed to me you also tried to help this guy. I know you’re doing your best to keep in the work etiquette, but you really seem to always try to cheer him up.’

Byungjoo’s smile grew a bit wider.

_What a bullshit universe, -_ he thought, relieved for some reason. -  _Not realistic at all._

‘What, did I hit the mark there?’ Mina raised her eyebrows.

Byungjoo laughed.

‘Nah. I just like his ass,’ he whispered, and turned away as he heard the door open again.

The customer stopped Mina from nudging him again, almost offendedly. The guy was dressed a little bit too light for the weather, as Byungjoo could guess. He carried a backpack that he slid off one shoulder as he walked in. As he came closer, he took off big pixel sunglasses, but Byungjoo already knew who it was. Sanggyun looked into his eyes and smiled.

‘Hello,’ he greeted, casually. ‘Excuse me, I’m a tourist, not really familiar with the city, and I lost my group...’

‘Hello,’ Byungjoo replied, looking straight at him.

Sanggyun’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Byungjoo smiled and winked at him, trying his best to be sneaky. Sanggyun collected himself quickly, you had to give him that.

‘So, what I needed was...’ he cleared his throat. ‘You know, if I could charge my phone here, that would be great. It has just died. And also, if you could help me get to the hotel… I’m not all that good with maps.’

‘Sure,’ Mina replied, instead of Byungjoo. ‘Come, I’ll show you where the sockets are.’

‘Yeah, thank you a lot,’ Sanggyun nodded, casting Byungjoo a glance, and winking in reply.

Byungjoo watched them walk away, leaning over the counter. Sanggyun fished a charger out of his backpack, plugged it in, and strode back to the counter along with Mina, having left his things behind.

‘Oh-kaay,’ he said, loudly, coming up, ‘coffee, black, if you have.’

‘Of course we do,’ Mina smiled.

‘Do you happen to have any sandwiches? Or, I don’t know, burgers?’

Mina shook her head.

‘Sorry, we don’t. But we have cakes and cookies, here they are...’

Sanggyun shook his head.

‘Nah, is fine.’

He dug his pockets for money. Byungjoo accepted it, and gave Sanggyun another smile. He was actually glad to see him.  _Hey Highness, -_ he thought.  _\- Stripped of your royal glory, I see._

Sanggyun shook his head slightly in disbelief.

‘You can talk to people you know, if you want to,’ Mina remarked from behind his back. Byungjoo turned around startled.

‘What?’

Mina pulled a face.

‘Don’t have to be so secretive. It’s not like I would suspect anything fishy.’

‘It’s not like you’re not the person to do that,’ Byungjoo teased half-heartedly.

‘I’m a good person,’ Mina huffed, turning to Sanggyun. ‘Sir, if you want to stay here with your friend for a little while, there’s a burger joint just a little down the street. You should go out and take to the right, you’ll see it. You can bring your food over, it’s usually not allowed, but given you need our help, I’m sure we can allow it just once.’

Sanggyun smiled brightly at her.

‘Thank you loads. I’ll be right back! Paid for my coffee, so I’ll return. Don’t get bored, Byungjoo!’

And he gave him the finger guns, making Byungjoo almost die of embarrassment. He watched Sanggyun stride out, until the door closed behind his back.

‘You never told me you had friends from other cities,’ Mina remarked.

_There’s a lot I’ve never told you, -_ Byungjoo thought. Aloud, he said:

‘I met him in a summer camp. Never thought I’d meet him again. He’s an embarrassment.’

‘Really? Wow. Life is weird sometimes,’ Mina said sincerely.

‘It is,’ Byungjoo agreed, for a whole different reason.

* * *

The door slammed open, startling Byungjoo out of his thoughtful trance. Sanggyun, holding an enormous burger in his hand, ran up to him and all but jumped onto the counter.

‘Byungjoo!’ he exclaimed. ‘Man, we need to talk, right now! It’s urgent.’

Byungjoo frowned. He had guessed what sort of news Sanggyun was bringing. Sanggyun reached his hand over the counter to grab Byungjoo’s wrist.

‘Come on, no time to waste!’ he cried, and Byungjoo, mumbling some half-assed apologies to Mina, hurried out from behind the counter, jerking his wrist back to prevent being dragged headfirst over the countertop. Sanggyun grabbed him again as soon as he was at an arm’s reach, and Byungjoo couldn’t help but follow him out and into the street. Sanggyun pushed him away from the doors, and finally stopped, eyes square.

‘Byungjoo!’ he shouted in a whisper. ‘You know who sold me this burger? Hojoon! It was Hojoon! Come on, you gotta fetch him quick!’

Byungjoo shook his head, trying desperately to keep up.

‘Wait, wait, what’s the emergency? Is he leaving?’

Sanggyun looked over Byungjoo's shoulders, jumpy, shifting on his feet.

‘No, he’s not, but you gotta fetch him and get back here, because God forbid we miss someone. Come on!’

Byungjoo rolled his eyes.

‘Oh, damn you, stop the panic. I’m coming, coming. Where is it?’

And he took his hand away right on time before Sanggyun could grab it. Sanggyun didn’t give it much attention. He strode forward past Byungjoo, gesturing him to follow.

The burger joint had a big ugly signboard, but overall didn’t look too shabby. A skinny figure was fidgeting behind the glass, and Sanggyun pointed his finger at it.

‘There he is. See?’

Byungjoo huffed. He came up to the little window and leaned in.

‘Excuse me?’ he called.

‘Yes, order, please,’ the familiar voice replied, not rudely, but not particularly politely.

Hojoon had just finished cleaning the table, put the cloth away and went to the back to wash his hands. Byungjoo waited patiently. Hojoon shook his hands, spraying droplets of water to the floor, then reached out for a napkin out of a carton.

‘Sir, order, please,’ he reminded, turning to Byungjoo, his gaze indifferent and world-weary.

‘Can I have a hot dog?’ Byungjoo smiled, looking him in the eye.

Hojoon changed in the face. In a moment he was leaning close to the window, examining Byungjoo and Sanggyun.

‘Oh goodness, guys!’ he said, glancing from one to the other. ‘Hello there.’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Hey-hey. So, I did what was necessary of me. I gotta get back to work, alrighty?’

Hojoon’s face changed to a look of confusion.

‘So, just gonna leave like this? At least take my number, come on!’

Byungjoo huffed, searching his pockets to find the phone there – for sure.

‘Yeah, say it.’

He typed down the number and dialled.  From behind the glass, from somewhere at the back of the room, a faint melody started playing. Hojoon nodded, gesturing Byungjoo to end the call.

‘I’ll keep an eye out. Turn on the sound,’ he warned, leaning down to the little window. ‘Where do you work?'

Byungjoo waved his hand at the direction of the coffee shop.

'At the cafe, there.'

Hojoon nodded.

'I see. okay, not gonna be delaying you any longer. Are you doing okay?’

Byungjoo nodded confidently.

‘Absolutely. I’ll be fine.’

‘You sure will,’ Hojoon nodded seriously. ‘See you. Or call you. Or you call. My workday ends at 9 pm. Yours?’

Byungjoo shrugged.

‘We’ll see about it.’

Hojoon huffed.

‘Fine. Go, hurry up.’

And he turned away from the window, clearly signifying that the talk was over.

Byungjoo cast him another glance, and invited Sanggyun to follow as he walked back towards the cafe.

‘How about you take my number, too?’ Sanggyun asked, catching up and walking beside him.

Byungjoo nodded, glancing at his phone he was still holding in his hand.

‘Yeah, give me.’

* * *

Mina greeted him with a look so heavy Byungjoo shrank a bit.

‘Let me just remind you that you’re at work here,’ she said, interrupting the confused explanation Byungjoo had started stuttering out. ‘I mean, I understand that there are, well, _circumstances,_ but at least pretend to be working, okay? I’m not paid for covering for you, you know.’

Byungjoo muttered some heartfelt apologies, but he wasn’t sure if Mina had heard him. She turned away and started cleaning the table rigorously. Byungjoo stooped at the counter. Mina was the only one keeping him undercover, albeit unknowingly, and he needed to be in favour to proceed safely. But he couldn't worry about her for too long. His thoughts wandered off to Hojoon.

Hojoon was a weird type, and Byungjoo sometimes caught himself being a little scared of him. He had a weird thing about him: he knew a lot about people, even those who never told him anything. His knowledge wasn’t gossips, and he never shared what he knew. The secrets Hojoon would uncover anyhow always stayed with him alone. It’s just that sometimes he had private talks about such secrets with their owners, and although he never threatened to give them out, such talks always ended up with people being upset for days.

Byungjoo remembered Hojoon talking to Sangwon like that – remembered, because Sangwon came rushing in, accusing him of conspiring with Hojoon to win Hansol’s affection. Thankfully, that day wasn’t one of Byungjoo’s bad days, and Sangwon was more upset than angry. He actually listened to Byungjoo talk, and eventually he calmed down and believed him. That was the smart Sangwon that Byungjoo knew, and he appreciated him being level-headed for once. They went out then, went to the park, bought themselves drinks and sat a while talking about what was going on.

‘ _I just keep wondering HOW,’_ Sangwon said, then. _‘My first guess was, maybe you told him. You know, as you say, to keep me away from him. But you say you didn’t...’_

‘ _No,’_ Byungjoo shook his head. _‘I would never. No one knows from me, you can trust me on that. I know how people might not be… supportive of you, so I keep my mouth shut.’_

Sangwon huffed thoughtfully.

‘ _Maybe Hansol told him?’_

Byungjoo scoffed.

‘ _If Hansol wanted to tell you to stop hitting on him, he would have told you right away, and he would do it himself. Hansol is pretty straightforward if something is bothering him, you have to give him that.’_

That much was true, but Byungjoo had been observing Hansol having Sangwon on an emotional roller-coaster, accepting his ministrations gratefully one day and telling him to leave him alone the other. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

Sangwon shrugged.

‘ _Well, he’s being weird...’_

‘ _Isn’t that what I’m always telling you?’_

Sangwon just sighed, looking away.

‘ _Hansol is not what’s bugging me now. What does is Hojoon. How does he know? Am I… obvious? Does everyone know?..’_

The look on his face was so genuinely scared that Byungjoo had a mighty urge to hug him, but deemed it inappropriate

‘ _Oh quit,’_ he said instead. ‘ _I mean, you’re obvious to me, but it’s because I know and I pay attention. If that will calm you down, no one asked me about it yet. Like, Sangdo never asked, and you know he would ask everyone if he suspected something. Yooncheol would ask...’_

‘ _Why would he?’_

Byungjoo sighed. He hated to explain those things to Sangwon.

‘ _Well, mostly because Hansol is involved. You know how Yooncheol is all over the place when Hansol is involved. He’d ask about Hansol, and Sangdo would ask about you…’_

‘ _Why do you think they would ask you in the first place?’_ Sangwon asked, but he sounded more or less relieved.

Byungjoo shrugged.

‘ _Well, Sangdo would ask anyone but you, because he’d be worried sick to avoid broken hearts, but he would be afraid to spoil something between you. And Yooncheol… well, that was just a thought. Anyway, if someone found out, I’d probably already know from Sangdo.’_

Sangwon scratched his head.

‘ _I re-eally wonder about Hojoon,’_ he said.

Byungjoo sighed.

‘ _You know,’_ he said, ‘ _when I was in love with Hansol, he had the same talk with me.’_

Sangwon glanced at him and hemmed.

‘ _The difference was,’_ Byungjoo continued, ‘ _that then no one knew. Literally no one. And I never even had time to properly hit on him. I just crushed, you know. And then Hojoon invited me to a cafe and asked me if I knew what I was getting into. I didn’t understand him first...’_

Sangwon licked his lips.

‘ _Wow.’_

‘ _It was also after such a talk that Hansol told me about his… mental health.’_

Sangwon sighed.

‘ _I really wonder what’s going on,’_ he said.

A year after, Hojoon remained a mystery, and Byungjoo had never managed to figure him out, directly or indirectly.

* * *

He accepted a few more orders, and called them out, and prepared two lemonades, having carefully observed Mina’s manipulations. He was careful not to talk, except in business.

_I belong here. I work here. I am from this universe._

Mina wasn’t angry long. In just a little while her expression softened, and she began to pick up small talk again.

‘Hey, I was wondering,’ she said, turning off the coffee machine. ‘Did you see that hobo when you were outside?’

Byungjoo shook his head.

‘Nope. No hobos out there.’

Mina looked down.

‘Call out a frappe,’ she dropped. ‘Well, that’s pretty weird, you know...’

‘Please, take one frappe!’ Byungjoo called. A middle-aged lady took her coffee and wandered off to the back.

‘Do you think maybe he got in trouble?’

‘Huh?’

Byungjoo glanced to Mina. His thoughts had begun to wander again, and he didn’t realize at first she was talking about the hobo.

‘You know, with the police,’ Mina justified.

Byungjoo shrugged.

‘Who knows… he might have.’

‘I hope he hasn’t got into Officer Shin’s hands,’ Mina sighed.

Byungjoo pricked up. He knew two Shins.

‘Officer Shin?’ he asked, casually.

‘Don’t you remember?’ Mina huffed. ‘He patrols this district. Such a prick. But I ran into him more often than you did, so maybe you forgot. And also I’m a girl, and he’s a sexist asshole.’

Byungjoo glanced at the door.

‘Yeah, think I remember that dickhead.’

‘Yeah, knew you’d agree with me.’

At that moment the door opened and a dark figure slipped in. If Sanggyun had been dressed too light for the weather, this one was shrouded way too warm. Byungjoo took a step towards the counter to take the order, but at that moment Mina tugged at his apron.

‘Come on!’ she whispered. ‘Give him free coffee! Say it’s on the house, I’m ready to pay for that.’

Byungjoo glanced at her in confusion. Mina gave him an expressive look. Then, something suddenly clicked.

_Is this my supposed love interest?.._

He stepped towards the counter and looked closely at the person in front of him. They were quite short, their stoop making them even shorter, and their head was lowered. This way, their buff oversized hoodie hood hid their face almost entirely.

‘May I take your order?’ Byungjoo asked, smiling professionally.

‘Hot chocolate, please,’ a quiet voice dropped, and Byungjoo recognized it instantly.

His first urge was to open his mouth in wonder. Then – to curse this universe.

‘Will that be all?’ he muttered aloud, trying to keep his dissolving smile.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Hansol rustled, passing him the money. ‘Keep the change.’

Byungjoo felt a nudge and hurried:

‘Sir, you are our regular client, and we… want to reward you for your loyalty. This will be on the house.’

Hansol didn’t raise his head. He nodded, hoarsed out a thank-you, turned and dragged to the table at the back. There, he pulled out a chair to sit facing the wall and pulled out his phone.

‘Seems sadder than usual, doesn’t he?’ Mina whispered.

Byungjoo frowned, his eyes still on Hansol.

_Fucked if he doesn’t…_

He remembered Jiho in the university universe, having to go out of his way to fetch Hansol, and felt heavy in the stomach.

‘Maybe you should go ask him?’

‘Can it be polite?!’ Byungjoo sent her an annoyed glance. ‘Who says he wouldn’t flip me off? I would, if I was him.’

Offended or annoyed, and not yet fetched, Hansol could just up and leave, and Byungjoo couldn’t afford that.

‘Fair enough...’ Mina looked down.

Byungjoo’s phone vibrated, and he reached for it almost involuntarily. A preview of a text from Sanggyun flashed fullscreen.

**Sanggyun**

_**It’s Hansol! You didn’t fetch him, right?** _

Byungjoo huffed loudly, feeling anger begin to stir in his chest. ‘ ** _No_** ,’ he tapped back, and was just about to push the phone back in his pocket, when the response came – almost immediately.

**Sanggyun**

_**Go talk to him!!!** _

Byungjoo shot Sanggyun a murderous glance across the room, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

‘Byungjoo, bring the guy his chocolate,’ Mina called. Byungjoo took the big cup from her hands and walked slowly, carefully towards Hansol’s table.

‘Young man, your chocolate,’ he said, smiling, without much hope.

Hansol nodded.

‘Yeah, thanks.’

He didn’t look up.

‘Are you… feeling alright?’ Byungjoo dared, immediately cursing himself. Forceful fetch was an option, but there were too many witnesses.

‘I am, thanks,’ Hansol replied wearily.

‘Do you need anything?’

Hansol shook his head.

‘No, thanks.’

_This is hopeless._

Anger grabbed the back of Byungjoo's neck, and he swallowed hard, moving his shoulders. With a little bow, he turned and headed back to the counter, trying not to dig his heels into the floor too hard.

He didn’t have to worry too much, though. The door opened wide – a little too wide, - and a man marched in loudly, immediately attracting all the eyes. Even Hansol turned his head for a brief moment, just to quickly look into his phone again, hunching his shoulders even lower.

Byungjoo stared at the man shamelessly, not even bothering to look away. He was clad in a uniform of a policeman, and by his arrogant come-in and self-confident smile Byungjoo had already guessed it was the infamous officer Shin. The more important thing, though, was that officer Shin had Jiho’s face – and, as he spoke, Byungjoo realized he wasn’t just a lookalike.

‘Hello, sweets! Do you have coffee for me?’ The man's voice was loud as he came up to the counter and put his elbows on it. ‘Glad to see you.’

‘The usual, sir?’ Mina asked, putting on a professional poker face, but Byungjoo sensed the tension in her whole body.

‘No, not today. I want something of your choice for me, kitty,’ Jiho said, in a nauseating tone of voice.

‘Are you certain, sir?’ Mina squinted ever so slightly, but sounded calm as ever.

‘Absolutely, sweet pea,’ Jiho replied, pushing himself off the counter and observing the cafe in no hurry. ‘I don’t care if it’s expensive.’

‘Sir, excuse me...’ Byungjoo began, but Jiho raised his hand into his face.

‘I’m talking to this sweet lady here, would you mind shutting up?’ he dropped, turning his profile to Byungjoo, looking straight in front of himself.

‘I was just suggesting you take a seat, sir,’ Byungjoo replied, trying to suppress his annoyance, threatening to grow into something dangerous.

‘I can figure it out by myself, thank you,’ Jiho spat, still not looking at Byungjoo.

The tension was getting toxic. For distraction, Byungjoo glanced at Mina. Now that she had turned her back to the policeman, her face changed to the expression of pure, concentrated rage. Her lips were shut so tightly they were white, and her hands were grasping tightly at the cup, into which she was pouring an unholy amount of cinnamon. After cinnamon came the sugar, and Byungjoo understood very quickly that her patience had run out. He turned away, letting Mina do her thing.

‘It’s been quite a day today, pussycat,’ Jiho mused, leaning onto the counter again, talking to Mina’s wide back. ‘Got real busy with that hobo always sitting on the corner. Caught him trying to steal buns from the burger joint. Disgrace!’

‘So you took him away, huh?’ Mina dropped over her shoulder, pouring coffee into the cup. Byungjoo noticed the slightest tremble in her hands.

‘He’s gonna have a much better home now,’ Jiho hemmed. ‘Much more fitting for his kind.’

There was a faint gasp from where Hansol was sitting, and Byungjoo glanced at him, frowning slightly. Hansol had put his phone away and turned his head a little towards them, his back straight, listening intently.

‘So, yeah, now this guy won’t bother anyone any more,’ Jiho hemmed. ‘Kitty cat, how’s my coffee?’

‘There you go,’ Mina turned to Jiho and put the cup onto the counter. ‘On the house, _officer._ ’

She sent him the most artificial, mocking smile she could muster, but Jiho didn’t seem to notice. He reached his hand out, but Mina took a step back, and his fingers stopped, hanging a few inches away from her cheek.

‘Sir?’ Byungjoo tried again, but Jiho didn’t even look in his direction.

‘There’s no reason to be this official,’ he said, smiling disgustingly at Mina. ‘We can go by names now.’

And he took the coffee cup and brought it to his lips. Byungjoo stared shamelessly, again, dying a little inside in expectation of a possible reaction. Jiho took a small sip.

His smile fell ever so slowly, it seemingly crawled off his face, like an ugly spider. Jiho closed his eyes, slowly as well, and as he opened them again, his stare at Mina was murderous. Byungjoo swallowed hard, but Mina bore it stoically. She crossed her arms on her chest and challenged ‘officer Shin’ with a stare.

‘Sugar and cinnamon, huh,’ Jiho said, quietly and menacingly.

The door opened at this moment, letting in the sounds of the city along with a few young men.

‘Byungjoo, take the orders,’ Mina dropped, not turning.

‘Sure,’ Byungjoo nodded quickly, feeling the rage reach his throat, threatening to spill.

The young men walked up to the counter and ordered two black coffees. All the while, Mina and Jiho were perfectly silent, glaring at each other. The young men walked off to one of the free tables, and as they sat down, Jiho leaned in and hissed:

‘A fatface like you should be grateful for the attention _.’_

‘Yeah?’ Mina parried, quietly, leaning slightly forward herself. ‘Why hit on me, then, if I’m a "fatface"?’

‘Ugly girls are usually sweet kitties,’ Jiho spat out, clasping at the countertop. ‘They’re not like those pretty sluts, who think they can just reject a good man. But you’re not like that. You’re not a sweet kitty. Not only are you ugly, but also a _bitch!’_

There was no going back. Byungjoo felt his rage flow over the top, quickly filling the room, barely letting him breathe. He reached forward and grabbed Jiho’s collar, dragging him close right over the counter. Mina barely had time to catch the cup of disguting coffee, keeping it from falling dwon and spilling all over the place. Jiho’s breath hitched, and his face was suddenly close to Byungjoo’s, eyes wide and mouth distorted.

‘You _fucker, how dare you?!’_ Byungjoo exhaled. _I will kill you, right now, right here, and I won’t regret it!_

Jiho grasped at his hand with his both, and his eyes widened even more as he struggled to say something, but only ended up gasping for air. Byungjoo pushed him off and raised his fist, ready to crush it into the pretty face slightly above his own, - but somebody grasped him around the waist, and Jiho’s hands tightened on his other hand, when his pleading call reached his ears:

‘Byungjoo! Byungjoo, stop! Please! I’m sorry!’

_Sorry!_

_Sorry!_

Everything seemingly disappeared, shrinking around one single word, ringing in Byungjoo’s head. His fists unclenched automatically. He released Jiho’s collar – once perfectly ironed, and now crumpled and spoiled. Jiho let go of him and stumbled back, breathing heavily and struggling to fix his clothes. Dumbfounded, his head suddenly empty, Byungjoo turned to Mina – it was her arms tightened around his waist – and met her terrified stare.

‘What have you done?!’ she whispered hotly. ‘He’s a police officer, Byungjoo, what the fuck?!’

Byungjoo turned back to Jiho and met his stare.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jiho all but mouthed, grasping at his collar for one more second, before straightening suddenly.

‘I...’ Byungjoo managed, but the words got caught somewhere in his throat, and nothing more came out.

Jiho blinked a few more times, then rushed towards the counter.

‘Byungjoo, we need to talk!’

His voice was concerned, and his speech quick ; he seemed to have regained his composure. Byungjoo couldn’t boast the same. He let Jiho take his wrist and lead him out – more softly than Sanggyun, but still impatiently. As he glanced around absently, he caught Mina covering her mouth with her hands in terror, and Sanggyun shaking his fists in the air encouragingly. Jiho led him out into the street and stopped, glancing around.

‘Byungjoo, I fucked up,’ he muttered as he was done checking out everyone passing, releasing his wrist.

‘Uh… huh,’ Byungjoo managed, shaking his head, trying to return to his senses.

‘No, you don’t really understand. That hobo...’

‘Was one of us?’ Byungjoo muttered. His lips and tongue didn’t quite obey, but he was already guessing what was going on. _The dumb game. The fucking game._

Jiho nodded.

‘Yeah. That was Yooncheol, you know.’

‘Wasn’t too hard to guess,’ Byungjoo said, rubbing his face with his hands. ‘The guy kept getting mentioned since morning, guess I was bound to meet him.’

‘I’m actually not sure about meeting,’ Jiho sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking over Byungjoo’s shoulder. ‘You know, we grabbed him and locked him away. Locked him away with pretty big hunks. With the _frequents_ , y’know...’

Byungjoo bit his lower lip as he imagined Yooncheol’s lanky frame among the seasoned  _hunks_ in the cell.

‘I… _officer Shin,’_ Jiho winced slightly, ‘put him in there just for laughs...’

Byungjoo hemmed. He couldn’t help but notice the way Jiho distanced himself from his character. He understood him well: officer Shin was nothing like Jiho.  _Or even if maybe he is, Jiho doesn’t want to have anything in common with him. I know that feel, bro._

‘Well, I guess it’s your job now to go and fix officer Shin’s wrongdoings,’ he smiled slightly as he looked up at Jiho. Jiho nodded quickly.

‘Yes. Yes, it is.’

Byungjoo tapped his shoulder reassuringly.

‘You’re not officer Shin,’ he said, wondering why he thought it was a good idea to say that.

‘We’re all not what we seem here,’ Jiho replied thoughtfully and turned to the cafe entrance. ‘Look, I have to apologize, and then I’ll be off. Take care, alright?’

‘Give me your number first,’ Byungjoo smiled.

* * *

As he entered the cafe, a few steps behind Jiho, he heard his quiet apologies, and Mina’s surprised, distrustful voice replying. Jiho bowed before leaving, and sent Byungjoo a little smile ,  seemingly apologetic. Byungjoo went back into the cafe, his knees shaking slightly still, and took his place behind the counter. As soon as the door closed behind Jiho, Mina grabbed him by the shoulders, and turned him to face her in one strong move. Byungjoo obeyed easily, looking at her in quiet expectation.

‘What the fuck were you talking about?!’ Mina demanded, loudly, clearly not caring about the customers at all. ‘I need to know what you were talking about to make this bastard come back to me like he was a completely different person!’

Byungjoo smiled slightly.  _Now what?_

‘I’m pretty scary, is all,’ he said. ‘That guy won’t bother you any more.’

‘No, I _need_ to know!’ Mina insisted.

Byungjoo took his glasses off and rubbed his face with his palm.

‘There’s really nothing about it. We’re… we’re a little acquainted. My uncle knows his dad.’

He thought absently that his bluffing must have been very clear. Mina frowned.

‘But old Mr. Shin is the head of the police department… and your uncle… wait, I don’t think you ever mentioned _having_ an uncle!’

Byungjoo pulled a little face, putting his glasses back on their place on the bridge of his nose.

‘We don’t talk too often. All I know is that old Mr. Shin knows my uncle well enough to trust him. And my uncle is too well off to be afraid of some _young and ambitious_ policemen like officer Shin there.’

He made the words ‘young and ambitious’ sound as poisonous as possible. That wasn’t entirely untrue, Jiho had always been ambitious. Byungjoo didn’t really like that about him, it felt like Jiho was pushing himself forward in everything, and it seemingly happened involuntarily. The latest years, however, Jiho seemed to have calmed down, but the ever-present self-adoration became combined with an old-man-like bitterness. Partly, it had smoothed Jiho down and made him sweeter, but Byungjoo was slightly distrustful of him. He felt a bit like Jiho’s rival, he could confess that to himself, but he didn’t know exactly why.

But then,  _that apology…_

He didn’t know why a simple ‘sorry’ struck him so much. Maybe it was just unusual coming from a man like Jiho.

Or maybe, it was  just _unusual…_

Mina released his shoulders.

‘Well, fuck knows. All that I’m certain of is that _the_ officer Shin apologized to me _sincerely and politely._ That’s enough for me as of now. We gotta work.’

‘Yes. Yes, we do,’ Byungjoo nodded.

Mina turned away and got busy with making coffee, moving quicker than usual. Byungjoo’s gaze roamed the room and jibbed into Hansol. The little black back was stooped yet lower, and Byungjoo had to squint to realize that he wasn’t just seeing things: Hansol’s shoulders were trembling ever so slightly.

Byungjoo frowned. _Guess work has to wait again._  He walked out from behind the counter, came up to Hansol’s table, and sat down carefully to a seat near him.

‘Sir?’ he called, softly, carefully. ‘Sir, are you alright?’

He knew better than to touch him, or call him by name. Hansol didn’t raise his head, he just sobbed quietly.

‘Sir, can I help you anyhow?’

Hansol shook his head, reaching his hands up to rub his face – his palms were hiding in long black sleeves.

‘There’s no way to help now. It’s… it’s all my fault. I’m to blame.’

Byungjoo held back the urge to take his hand.

‘To blame for what?’ he asked, softly.

Hansol sobbed quietly again, rubbing his face with a black paw.

‘I know you’re a good man,’ he managed. ‘I know because you fed him. I… I saw. I watched him from afar. I can never come close. Oh!’

He covered his face with his hands – it didn’t change much from Byungjoo’s perspective. Hansol’s expression was very much obscured by the hood and the bangs. Byungjoo let out a sigh. The hobo. Yooncheol.  _I should have guessed._

Hansol took a deep breath, trying and clearly failing to regain some composure.

‘It’s too late now anyway,’ he said, quietly. ‘I will never get the chance to even apologize. Thank you, I saw you told officer Shin to behave. I… appreciate.’

Byungjoo looked away. He was feeling guilty for almost hurting Jiho. Almost hurting? He could have killed him for all he knew.

‘So you know that hobo, huh,’ he said.

That wasn’t a question. Hansol nodded.

‘Sort of. I knew him way before he was a hobo. I knew him as a prospering young man. He was my cousin, my best friend, - my everything. Yes, everything!’

His voice rose to pitch and broke. Hansol sobbed and swallowed loudly, sniffing brokenly. Byungjoo sighed.  _Yes, I should have known._ Yooncheol had to be involved. And he had to be involved precisely in this fashion.

‘What happened to him?’ he asked, softly. ‘You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but just maybe it will help?’

Hansol wiped his face fiercely with the black fabric.

‘I don’t have the right to say it again. I can’t put him in danger once more. I broke his life, and I won’t do that any further.’

‘I’m an open-minded person,’ Byungjoo said, sincerely. ‘And I can keep a secret. Ha… sir, I’m a stranger to you, and you may well not come to this cafe again, ever. But maybe you will feel better. I don't want you to cry. Whatever your friend did, I’m not the one to judge.’

He didn’t even urge Hansol to look at him, although he had an opportunity. He was almost curious to hear him out. His phone buzzed – he guessed it to be a message from Sanggyun. He paid no attention.

Hansol sniffed a few times.

‘The worst thing is, he didn’t even do anything,’ he said at last, his voice faint and trembling. ‘He just happened to be… _different...’_

Byungjoo pressed up his lips. He cursed himself for not being surprised.  _Do I know too much? Am I the next Hojoon now?_ He knew that tone of voice, in which the word ‘different’ was spoken – usually mockingly, and almost never this desperately.

‘So he has a preference for men, right?’ he asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘gay’.

Hansol nodded.

‘Only I knew. I alone, of all people in the world.’

Byungjoo licked his lips and shot Mina a glance. She caught his eyes and nodded reassuringly. Byungjoo decided not to look at Sanggyun.

‘He is the best person I know,’ Hansol muttered. He had put his hands down, black sleeves in darker wet stains. ‘The sweetest, most caring person I’ve ever known, I mean it. So selfless, and so careful – I didn’t even have to ask for help, he just _knew_ when I needed it the most… but for his parents he was mostly just a rebel.’

His voice was shaky, interrupted now and then by uncontrolled sobs. Byungjoo leaned a bit closer to him, not to make him talk any louder. Hansol never looked up at him.

‘I only tried to protect him then. I only wanted him to be alright. But I ended up telling his parents what he was, - accidentally, in the heat of the moment, - and… well...’

‘They didn’t take it well,’ Byungjoo helped.

Hansol shook his head.

‘Maybe it would’ve been better if he wasn’t so proud and straightforward… no, no, what am I saying!’ He covered his face with his hands. ‘Only I am to blame. It’s all my fault. He was what he was,and  I was the reason it all began.’

‘So… he fell out with his parents?’ Byungjoo tried, uncertainly.

‘They kicked him out,’ Hansol sobbed. ‘They thought he’d come back next morning with apologies. They didn’t know him at all!’

‘He never came back,’ Byungjoo nodded to himself.

‘Never did,’ Hansol nodded in response, dropping his hands back to his knees. ‘I begged him to forgive me, and… he did. I helped him... as well as I could. Not only because I... felt guilty. I would have helped him anyway!’

‘Of course you would,’ Byungjoo nodded, partly agreeing with Hansol in this universe, - and partly with the real Hansol.

Hansol rubbed his nose, like a little boy.

‘He got a job. He… rented a room. We saw each other often, I came over… to check on him.’

Hansol’s breath was getting a little calmer, and Byungjoo let out a tiny breath of relief. Hansol put his hands onto the table, one beside the other, and raised his head slightly to stare at them. Byungjoo glimpsed his little red nose, and his heart nagged slightly, familiarly, but he pushed the feeling back.

‘We… were pretty affectionate with each other,’ Hansol continued. ‘And the boys from his work weren’t… nice.’

‘They saw you?’

Hansol nodded.

‘They probably decided we were dating… they decided he was different, just as well, but on their own… and they framed him up...’

He went strangely silent, and Byungjoo dared ask:

‘For what?’

‘For stealing cash!’ Hansol mewled, and hid his face in his hands. His shoulders shook violently, and it took Byungjoo a lot not to embrace him and not to draw him in.

‘That’s shitty of them,’ he said instead. ‘Really, what a fucking asshole would do that?’

‘They called him a faggot,’ Hansol exhaled raggedly. ‘Called him a bugger, a dirty liar and a sick bastard, they threatened to come after him when he was acquitted. And… everybody believed _them,_ and not him! Even his landlord! Nobody was glad to see him, no-one!’

‘Please, don’t cry,’ Byungjoo tried, almost begged, but Hansol trembled harder with his entire body, swallowing sobs.

‘They did! They came after him! They found us both, and he just… pushed me away, to hide… and I hid! I hid and I watched them beat him up! I did nothing at all!’

Byungjoo closed his eyes so that no one would see how far up he rolled them.

_Goodness gracious. Why does there always have to be drama?.._

Drama followed Hansol. He seemingly attracted it. His story was heart-wrenchingly cliché, and Byungjoo just wanted it to stop. He hated seeing Hansol cry. He hated the drama. He hated his unsuppressed, raw emotions that he wasn’t ashamed of. That was too heavy a load for him to bear.

‘And then I… ran away,’ Hansol managed. ‘To call the police, but when they arrived, there was no one there. And for a while I… just thought he was dead! I thought I had killed him!’

‘Please, you didn’t kill him,’ Byungjoo tried softly. ‘It’s a normal reaction, to flee. You only wanted the best!’

‘I found him accidentally, spotted him across the street,’ Hansol sobbed out, seemingly not hearing him. ‘Just a wretched hobo, I didn’t recognize him at first, he was so dirty. I stalked him a while… but… I never got close to him. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to help. But I’m… I’m terrified. He won’t forgive me, and he will be right. I’m afraid to look into his eyes...’

Byungjoo huffed, reached his arm out and put it around Hansol’s shoulders. Hansol jerked his head up, and the stare of his wide eyes tore into Byungjoo.

‘It’s fine, really, it is,’ Byungjoo said.

Hansol gasped and jumped to his feet. Byungjoo stood up. He knew what to do now. He held his arms out, - and in a second Hansol was on his neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

‘It’s okay,’ he repeated. ‘That wasn’t for real, I promise. I told Jiho, - officer Shin, that is, - to get our Yooncheolie out. Sanggyunie is just across the room. A little bit down the street is Hojoonie. We’ll be fine.’

Hansol nodded, not peeling away from his shoulder. Byungjoo patted his back awkwardly.

_When I was in love with him…_

_When wasn’t I, though?_

* * *

It was getting darker behind the huge windows. In the evening, more people came by, and Byungjoo engaged in his responsibilities to pass the time. There were no familiar faces among the customers any more.

Mina didn’t miss the opportunity to softly congratulate Byungjoo, to which he only shook his head. He couldn’t congratulate himself. He felt as if he had scratched an almost-healed wound, and it was bleeding again. In the toilet, he tried his best not to look at the scars and scratches on his hips, but they itched desperately, reminding him of their existence. The glasses started reminding as well, after a while, as his head began to ache somewhere behind the ears. The waiting was becoming unbearable: idle, monotonous and uncomfortable. Compared to the rush of the previous universe, Byungjoo felt deprived. Sanggyun was trying his best to cheer him up and justify his sitting in the cafe for so long, but Byungjoo didn’t spare him much attention, zoning out into his own world. Mina, however, kept a nice conversation with Sanggyun, and Byungjoo caught himself thinking they would have been a good match if it was reality.

His phone buzzed and he answered the call automatically.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hello there,’ Jiho’s voice replied quickly from the speaker. ‘I got Yooncheol out. Took some trouble, but I'm on my way with him.’

‘That’s pretty good,’ Byungjoo said wearily, glancing at Hansol sitting at the same table, eyes on his phone screen.

‘Yeah, but there’s a thing that isn’t that good,’ Jiho informed.

‘Don’t be long,’ Byungjoo asked.

‘No, I won’t. One of the hunks that we’d locked Yooncheol up with, one of them was Sangwonie. They released him without me, and I lost track of him.’

‘Oh,’ Byungjoo raised his eyebrows slightly. ‘That’s… not really good. But it’s not yet so late, we might meet him still. The police station regulars are night creatures.’

Mina shot him a glance, but Byungjoo waved a hand at her.  _Nothing special,_ \- he mouthed. Mina shrugged with a very expressive face and continued making a milkshake.

‘Well, I will come soon with Yooncheol anyway,’ Jiho said. ‘We’ll figure something out.’

‘We sure will,’ Byungjoo shrugged. ‘Be quick, there’s someone waiting for Yooncheol impatiently right here.’

‘Oh really?’ Jiho sounded more amused than surprised. ‘The lore of the universe tends to come up in the most unexpected places, right?’

Byungjoo sighed.

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘Maybe not really unexpected, after all. Anyway, you gotta come over quick. So bye?’

‘Bye,’ Jiho said, and hung up.

Byungjoo took the phone away from his ear and pushed it into his pocket.

_Why is Sangwonie always in prison?.._

He could invent a ton of theories for that, but he preferred not to theorize in that direction.

_Who would want to do this to us? Who would want to organize this? Who would want to stir these things?_

His phone buzzed again. Byungjoo huffed, reaching for it. Hojoon. He frowned slightly as he answered the call.

‘Yes?’

‘Hello,’ Hojoon’s voice replied busily. ‘Look, right about now Sangdo bought a burger here, and he’s headed down the street in your direction. He's approaching your coffee shop, so keep an eye out. He has a guitar in a black case on his back, and he’s wearing everything black. Long wavy hair, if it matters.’

I’ll keep an eye out, Byungjoo wanted to say, but at that moment the door opened, and Sangdo walked in, looking just as Hojoon had described him, chewing on a burger.

Some people in the cafe waved at him. Mina glanced to the clock up behind her back.

‘Punctual, as always,’ she greeted. ‘Hello.’

‘Hey, Mina,’ Sangdo smiled. ‘Hey, Byungjoo.’

Byungjoo opened his mouth to greet, but Mina immediately cut him off.

‘Did you see Jimin anywhere close?’

Sangdo shook his head, coming up to the counter.

‘No. She’s not around yet.’

Mina huffed.

‘She’s always late.’

The door opened again, letting in a dark-skinned young man.

‘Hey,’ he called, waving at Byungjoo and Mina.

Mina pulled a face.

‘See? Jonah is already here, and she’s fuck knows where...’

‘Oh, this won't be a problem,’ Jonah smiled, walking around the counter. ‘I’ll wait for Jimin.You go.’

‘She might be half an hour late,’ Mina remarked darkly.

‘I don’t mind,’ Jonah waved his hand. ‘Go. Your shift is over. It's her problem now.’

Mina smiled.

‘Thanks.’

‘Is okay,’ Jonah shrugged. ‘Sangdo, how’s it going?’

Sangdo gladly engaged in a conversation, putting his guitar down and paying Byungjoo no attention.  Byungjoo untied the apron around his waist and took it off, throwing it over his shoulder. Then, he turned and leaned back against the counter, closed his eyes and took off his glasses. The vague ache behind his ears became slightly stronger and more annoying. Byungjoo rubbed the bridge of his nose and opened his eyes, squinting at the blurry spots in front of him.

_I definitely see better in reality._

He felt someone’s fingers run up and down behind his ears and shied away in surprise. As he turned, putting his glasses on hastily, Sangdo smiled at him awkwardly, lowering his hands.

‘I figured your head must hurt,’ he said shyly. ‘That was… random, I’m sorry.’

Byungjoo smiled slightly.

‘No-no,’ he said. ‘Please, continue.’

Sangdo squinted slightly, then smiled wider. Byungjoo nodded, satisfied, and turned his back to him again, leaning against the counter and taking his glasses off. Sangdo’s fingers - now those of the real Sangdo, - ran through his hair and stroked behind the ears, and Byungjoo closed his eyes in pleasure. The dull ache lifted slowly.

‘I think I saw Hansolie and Sanggyunie here in the cafe,’ Sangdo’s voice spoke softly over his ear.

‘Ye-es, that’s them,’ Byungjoo nodded slightly.

Soft fingers kept running pleasantly through his hair, up and down.

‘And I think the guy who sold me my burger looked like Hojoonie.’

Byungjoo nodded again.

‘Ye-es… Jiho is on his way, too, and he’s bringing over Yooncheol.’

Sangdo hemmed quietly.

‘There are two missing still...’

Byungjoo nodded yet again, licking his lips.

‘Yes. Jiho is a policeman. He told me they had just released Sangwon, and that he’s a local hooligan. I think we’re bound to meet him somewhere around here. And where Sehyuk is I have no idea.’

Sangdo huffed.

‘Well, I know where you can find Sehyukie.’

Byungjoo opened his eyes, turning his head slightly, and got immediately annoyed by the blurry sight.

‘Huh?’

‘Yeah,’ Sangdo replied, taking his head in his hands and turning it back to face the wall. ‘He’s a cleaner, and he works night shifts. You never really meet him in this universe, but if you stay and listen to me play, you will see him come over here. It’s bad that you mentioned Sangwonie, though.’

‘How so?’ Byungjoo hemmed.

‘He holds some grudge on Sehyukie, I don’t know exactly what it is, he wouldn’t tell me,’ Sangdo explained. ‘If they run into each other in the street, not yet fetched, well… bad things might happen.’

Byungjoo chewed on his lips.

‘Well, then someone should probably watch out for Sehyuk outside.’

‘Exactly,’ Sangdo pressed his fingers a little more firmly against his skull. ‘And that should be you, because only you can fetch them. I can give you Sehyukie’s phone number now, and then you go out and wait, huh?’

‘Hey Sangdo!’ Sanggyun’s voice called, barely quieter than usual.

Sangdo released Byungjoo's head, and Byungjoo slipped his glasses on, turning to face the room. Jonah nudged him slightly as he stepped behind the counter. Byungjoo glanced at him.

‘Gonna go home, or what?’ Jonah suggested.

Byungjoo nodded.

‘In a little bit.’

‘Give me that,’ Jonah retrieved the apron from his hand.

Byungjoo let him take it and watched as he went off to the staff room to drop it. Then, he  sighed and walked out from behind the counter. As Jonah showed up again, he smiled at him, and Jonah reflected the smile.

‘You look like shit,’ he said.

‘I know,’ Byungjoo nodded. ‘All I want is to sleep.’ _And get out of this goddamn game and beat the shit out of whoever did this to us._

Jonah nodded.

‘Oh, I know how it goes. Go rest.’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘As soon as I can. Still gotta finish some things.’

‘Take care of yourself.’

‘Sure will.’

Mina went out of the toilet, her makeup refreshed slightly, her hair now untied. She looked nice and lively. She walked up to Byungjoo and smiled at him.

‘I guess this day wasn’t too bad, after all,’ she said. ‘Go have some good rest and I want to see you hopping tomorrow night.’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Absolutely will.’

‘And…’ she looked down for a second, before looking back up at him with a smile much softer. ‘Good luck with your guy.’

Byungjoo huffed, smiling back.

‘Oh, thanks. I think this is a bit too early.’

Mina shook her head.

‘Nah. Good luck to you, Kim Byungjoo. Look, I gotta go, I promised to babysit for my friend tonight. I’ll see you, right?’

She asked it as if in doubt, and for a moment the world around Byungjoo seemed cardboard. He blinked fiercely and turned sharply to look at Jonah and his friends – what if they were just cutouts, unmoving and flat?..

Jonah finished decorating a big cup and called:

‘Coconut latte!’

Sangdo drew Hansol a little closer to himself.

Sanggyun leaned carelessly onto the counter, watching Sangdo with a strange look on his face. He looked older.

‘Byungjoo!’

Byungjoo turned to Mina and smiled at her genuinely.

‘Yes. Of course. I’ll see you. Good night, Mina.’

She nodded.

‘G’night to you, too.’

At the door she ran into a cute girl and pulled a face at her – Byungjoo guessed that had to be Jimin. Glancing over his shoulder to Sangdo, Hansol and Sanggyun, he decided not to bother them for Sehyuk’s phone number. He walked slowly out the cafe into the cooling evening.

There weren’t many people walking the street, - there hadn’t been many at day, and in the evening nothing much changed. There were few cars, either, and Byungjoo enjoyed the pleasant vague hum of the sleepy street: the little chatter, the wind in the trees, the footsteps and occasional tyres swishing past…

He thought about Hojoon. His burger joint was lit from inside, and Byungjoo wondered how much longer he was going to work. Hojoon was a mysterious figure to him, a grey cardinal, who knew everything about everybody, but his own affairs were a secret. Byungjoo knew he used to hang out with Sangdo, and that now he was more with Jiho, but he didn’t know if Hojoon had a weak spot, or if he was more inclined to someone than to someone else. Byungjoo wondered about Hojoon. He could theorize some, but he preferred not to.

He thought about Yooncheol. Yooncheol always came up where Hansol was involved, - one way or another, but mostly as a silent watcher, ready, however, to hop to his feet and rush to help as soon as he was needed. Byungjoo didn’t blame him for that. It was in Yooncheol’s nature: he was a caring person, but one had to deserve his care, - or, more like, to earn his trust. Some way, Hansol had got closer to him than any one else did, and Byungjoo wondered at that, but didn’t doubt Yooncheol’s choice. He doubted Sangwon’s, certainly, and he doubted Sehyuk’s, but he had some trust in Yooncheol’s common sense.

Byungjoo liked Yooncheol a lot. He wasn’t quite like the mother-bird Sangdo; Byungjoo loved Sangdo but didn’t really understand him. Understanding Yooncheol was easier. He was more selfish, in a healthy way. He mostly kept to himself, but he seemed mature to Byungjoo – much more mature than Sangwon, and this is why he gave him his silent blessing for whatever it was that he wanted with Hansol. Although he thought that he probably knew, and that surprised him even more.

Hansol was made of drama. He was equally vocal about the things he liked and the things he didn’t. Yooncheol was equally quiet about both. Hansol was clingy, Yooncheol not so much. Hansol was flirty, Yooncheol hardly considered himself worthy of love. They were like the opposites of each other: the tall and the short, the quiet and the loud, the clingy and the stoic. But just maybe Yooncheol’s common sense was what Hansol needed; they seemed to balance each other pretty well. They were both weird, each in their own way, they had the same sense of humour, and were equally supportive of each other. Byungjoo tended to see their possible relationship as healthy. But he never had the courage to point Sangwon at Yooncheol. Partly, he wasn’t quite certain of their relationship, it was all based on guesses. But partly, Byungjoo had noticed despairingly, Sangwon had understood himself. After all, he was insightful as hell. And he willingly ignored it. He waited for a straight-out ‘no’, and it never came.

Byungjoo sighed. He didn’t know what Hansol was thinking, and sometimes he felt sorry even for Yooncheol.

‘Hey.’

A warm hand lay on his shoulder. Byungjoo turned a little too sharply. Hojoon smiled slightly at him.

‘Waiting for whom?’ he asked, as if Byungjoo had said something.

‘Jiho with Yooncheol, and then Sehyuk,’ Byungjoo replied, looking up at the sky.

‘Mind if I wait with you?’

Hojoon took his hand away from Byungjoo’s shoulder. Byungjoo shrugged.

‘Why not?’

There was a little comfortable silence.

‘What were you thinking about?’ Hojoon asked calmly.

Byungjoo smiled slightly.

‘Well… I was thinking about how I want to get a proper sleep. I’m starting to feel weird. And how I want to play some games – whatever is at hand, to be honest.’

‘Yeah. I’d play, too,’ Hojoon replied, a little sadly. ‘I miss these Overwatch tournaments...’

Byungjoo gave a short laugh.

‘You always shouted the loudest when you lost, I wanted to stab you.’

‘I think at those moments I’d pop the knife right out of myself and stab _you_ ,’ Hojoon dropped.

They both huffed.

‘Do I really look that bad?’ Byungjoo finally glanced down from the sky and at Hojoon – and met his careful stare.

‘A bit,’ Hojoon confessed. ‘You look sleep-deprived.’

‘Well, just like you,’ Byungjoo hemmed.

Hojoon nodded seriously.

‘I know. I don’t feel sleepy, you know, but I think that dumb system, not letting us sleep _for real,_ is slowly fucking us up.’

‘Do you ever wonder who did this?’ Byungjoo asked, looking away. He was expecting the rage to start stirring again, but only felt slight trembling.

Hojoon sighed.

‘I have a guess,’ he said.

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Me too. Like, a train if thoughts: someone who wants us removed for practical reasons would have gone a much more old-fashioned way. On the other hand, there are people with wild imaginations out there, whose love for us is distorted to a point of true insanity. But that doesn’t make me any closer to finding _the_ guilty one.’

Hojoon hemmed.

‘You wanna be the vengeful hand, ha.’

That wasn’t a question. Byungjoo nodded slowly.

‘If you wanna say loud words, yes. I do.’

‘What for?’ Hojoon asked, inclining his head to the side. His intonation was perfectly calm, as was his posture. Byungjoo searched for a trace of mockery or menace in his voice or face, but found none.

‘Why did you want to stay here instead of going inside the cafe?’ he asked wearily. ‘You wanted your “private talk”? I’m not in the mood for this kind of stuff.’

Hojoon sighed. His shoulders drooped slightly, and he straightened immediately, regaining composure, but Byungjoo had already noticed.

‘Do you… not wanna see someone inside?’ he squinted, trying to understand – Hojoon didn’t know that Hansol was there, and he didn’t know in what state he was. Sanggyun or Sangdo? ‘Sangdo?’

Hojoon looked at him carefully.

‘What did he tell you?’

Byungjoo realized he had just made a headshot.

‘N-nothing,’ he muttered, surprised.

Hojoon nodded, looking away. Byungjoo knew he regretted saying anything.

‘I know you’ve pretty much stopped hanging out,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Did he do anything?’

Hojoon pulled a face, turning slightly. Byungjoo could see his profile. Hojoon reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Byungjoo watched as he took one out and lit it.

‘You smoke?’

‘In this universe, I do,’ Hojoon said, not looking at Byungjoo. ‘Sometimes I feel like picking up in reality.’

Byungjoo hemmed and waited quietly. Hojoon blew out a pretty cloud of smoke.

‘Do you believe that Sangdo could have done something wrong?’ he asked.

Byungjoo thought about Sangdo – all over a positive character, a hero, a saint, even his blows were delivered out of love.

‘I’d be glad if he did,’ he confessed.

He noticed Hojoon’s tiny smirk.

‘That’s nice to hear,’ he said. ‘Well, he sort of did. More like, he _didn’t_ do when he had to. Nothing important, really, but, well… stroke me nevertheless.’

‘Oh.’

Hojoon nodded, and Byungjoo hesitated. He didn’t feel like he had the  _right_ to ask what exactly Sangdo didn’t do.

‘I’m glad he’s not as perfect as he seems,’ he said, just to say something.

Hojoon sighed.

‘He’s not. Anyway, you never told me why you want to bring revenge.’

Now it was Byungjoo’s turn to sigh and look away. Hojoon was silent, waiting patiently. Byungjoo was gathering his thoughts, structuring them to put into words.

‘I… need to find someone who’s guilty,’ he said, quietly, at last. ‘And I wanna make them suffer like I do now. I wanna make them feel what I feel. This… this fucking game is bringing out what I don’t want brought out.’

‘This game will bring out the worst in us,’ Hojoon said. ‘If it continues like this now, it will most certainly bring out the worst. I don’t know where we’re going.’

‘At least something you don’t know,’ Byungjoo remarked. Hojoon gave out a little groan and crossed his arms on his chest.

‘I’m not joking, Byungjoo,’ he said, and – maybe for the first time – Byungjoo heard genuine worry in his voice, and also despair and fear. ‘I’m afraid,’ Hojoon said. ‘Decorations are changing, and with each change new secrets are unearthed. New grudges. New pains. And I… I don’t think we’ll get our shit together in this lack of time.’

‘Well, this universe seems pretty slow-paced,’ Byungjoo shrugged. ‘Maybe we should all sit around and talk some.’

‘Those aren’t talks to sit around,’ Hojoon said bitterly. ‘Those are things that shouldn’t even be discussed on the phone, so deeply intimate they are. There are loves, and hates, and guilt, and mental illnesses, and I wish I didn’t know anything. I wish I was like Sanggyunie.’

Byungjoo hemmed. He remembered one vision most clearly from the previous universe. He remembered Sanggyun’s eyes, full of unimaginable pain, as he talked to the dragon.

‘You don’t want to be like Sanggyunie,’ he said, in one fit of emotion. ‘You...’

‘Look!’ Hojoon grabbed his shoulder. ‘Isn’t that Sehyuk?’

Byungjoo turned to where he was pointing, and saw a slender figure walking down the street, looking around every now and then. He squinted, but couldn’t distinguish the face – even his glasses didn’t help.

‘I hate this universe,’ he said. ‘I don’t see shit.’

‘It’s him,’ Hojoon said, confidently. ‘Definitely.’

Sehyuk was approaching the road in a quick pace. Byungjoo looked instinctively left and right, and saw just one pair of headlights in a distance. Sehyuk was approaching steadily.

‘Woah, looks like he has cool headphones,’ Hojoon remarked.

‘Wish I could see,’ Byungjoo dropped. He walked a little closer to the crosswalk and watched Sehyuk intently. Sehyuk’s gaze brushed him for a second, then dropped back down as he stepped onto the road, not even looking right and left. Byungjoo frowned and glanced to the right, from where the car was moving. It didn’t even slow down.

‘Sehyuk!’ Byungjoo called, feeling worry tighten in his stomach. Something quick flashed on the edge of his field of vision, but he didn’t have time to notice what – who – it was. A loud beep deafened him, and Sehyuk froze abruptly in the middle of the road, turning his head to the car and staring at it with wide eyes.

The next moment the car swished past, still beeping, and from the rolled down window Byungjoo heard loud cursing. It didn’t slow down, moving past and disappearing behind the corner. Byungjoo stared at the road, blinking fiercely. A big shapeless black lump was lying on the asphalt, unmoving.

‘Sehyuk!!!’

A loud cry broke Byungjoo’s paralysis – Hojoon’s cry. They rushed towards the black lump simultaneously, crying out the name. Another car pulled over quickly on the other side of the street, and a man –  _Jiho –_ jumped out, calling for Byungjoo.

* * *

 

He realized a little too late that the lump was way too big to just be Sehyuk, and maybe two steps in he distinguished two bodies, stacked on top of each other. Two faces turned to the sound of his footsteps and looked at him as he gasped - ‘Oh god!’ - and two glimpses of recognition flashed in two pairs of eyes.

The bottom person – Sangwon’s face on a buff body, - climbed out and stumbled off to crouch, examined the other one, - Sehyuk, feeling his legs and wincing in pain, - then scooped him from the ground and put to his feet.

Sehyuk was standing shaky. Sangwon had to grab his shoulders and hold him on place not to let him fall.

‘Sehyuk, you okay?’ Hojoon called from behind Byungjoo’s back.

Sehyuk didn’t reply. He jerked his shoulders, shaking off Sangwon’s hands, and stumbled back, rubbing his eyes. Sangwon looked at him strangely. Sehyuk shook his head and stretched.

‘Guess, I’m fine, after all,’ he said. Then, he raised his fist and punched Sangwon in the face.

The sound was disgusting. Sangwon shook on his feet, and flailed his arms. Sehyuk looked up at him and sniffed.

‘You’re a fucker,’ he said. ‘Now I know your theory is right, and it only proves that you’re a fucker. You hold a grudge, ha. _You_ hold a grudge. Who do you think you are?’

‘Guys, we should take it to the sidewalk,’ Jiho remarked from aside. ‘Byungjoo, I need you.’

Byungjoo glanced at him and turned back to Sehyuk and Sangwon.

‘Bring Yooncheol over,’ he said quietly.

Sehyuk grabbed Sangwon by the shirt and dragged him across the road as if he was featherweight – it looked weird, given that Sangwon looked about twice bigger . B yungjoo and Hojoon hurried after them, not wanting to stay on the road. Sehyuk released Sangwon’s shirt and shoved him away. Sangwon stayed on his place.

‘You think you’re smarter than me, huh? You think I’m stupid?’

‘I don’t think you’re stupid,’ Sangwon replied, raising his chin slightly. ‘But yes, I think, I’m smarter than you in a certain way.’

Sehyuk raised his fist again, but Sangwon stepped forward and caught his hand.

‘See in which way?’ he said, looking Sehyuk straight in the eye. ‘I let you hit me once. I deserved that one. I didn’t have to call you a traitor, and I didn’t have to try to annoy you. Yes, I’m sorry for that. I really am.’

Sehyuk’s arm, strained in Sangwon’s grasp, softened slightly, and dropped.

‘You are, huh,’ he said, half-questioningly.

‘Yes, I am,’ Sangwon said confidently. ‘And I think we should stop right here. You also have something to apologize for. You think _I_ am stupid. You think because I’m younger you can tell me what to do. You can’t, Sehyuk.’

‘What’s going on here?’

Everyone turned to Sanggyun, walking away from out the door of the cafe. His face was desperate, and Byungjoo felt an urge to help him somehow.

‘They’re...’ he began, but Sehyuk shook his head and stepped back.

‘Yeah. Okay. Let’s cut it here. I don’t want to argue. I don’t think either of us should tell the other what to do.’

‘Let’s consider this sorted out,’ Sangwon said, and Sehyuk nodded, but his gaze to the side didn’t convince Byungjoo.

‘Let’s shake hands on that,’ he said, holding his hand out.

Sangwon looked at him with a look of disgust on his face, then pushed his hand aside and drew him into a hug.

‘Fuck you, Sehyuk,’ he said, sincerely.

‘Well, fuck you too,’ Sehyuk replied weakly, giving his back a few quick taps.

‘Byungjoo.’

Byungjoo raised his head. He knew what Jiho wanted.

‘Yeah, me.’

He walked around Hojoon to be a little closer. Jiho pointed at Yooncheol with his head – he was standing next to him, dirty, lanky, looking away. His hands were cuffed in front of him, hanging weakly down.

‘Yooncheol,’ Byungjoo called.

Yooncheol winced a little and raised his shoulders slightly, as if expecting a blow. He didn’t look at Byungjoo. Jiho nudged him.

‘Come on, look up.’

Yooncheol obeyed reluctantly. Byungjoo looked into his eyes – big, dark and sad.

‘Yooncheol, do you recognize me?’

Yooncheol squinted, then shook his head, as if in surprise. At that moment Jiho reached out for his hands and unlocked the handcuffs.

‘There you go,’ he said.

Yooncheol rubbed his wrists, looking at all the faces surrounding him in turn.

‘Oh wow,’ he said. ‘You guys are a mess.’

His gaze stopped on Sehyuk and Sangwon, who had released each other, and turned to see him better.

‘Look at yourself,’ Sangwon remarked, smirking.

‘Well, I’m homeless,’ Yooncheol shrugged. ‘I’m supposed to be a mess. Byungjoo, you’re such a sweetheart for keeping me alive all this time.’

Byungjoo shrugged, feeling his ears grow warmer.

‘Well, that’s nothing.'

‘Oh, and, by the way, sorry, Hojoonie,’ Yooncheol smiled. ‘I stole a couple buns.’

Hojoon laughed.

‘Oh quit,’ he said. ‘That was for survival.’

Yooncheol nodded.

‘Pretty much.’

Hojoon sighed, crossing his arms on his chest.

‘I really hope I never grow as bitchy as to get on your throat because of buns,’ he remarked, sending Sehyuk a meaningful glance.

Yooncheol chuckled.

‘I hope I never have to steal buns from you.’

‘You don’t have to, but you can,’ Sanggyun pointed out.

‘You can, but you shouldn’t,’ Hojoon said menacingly.

‘I won’t,’ Yooncheol smiled. ‘Sangwon, are you guys done?’

‘Pretty much,’ Sangwon replied, glancing at Sehyuk. ‘Are we… all gathered now?’

‘Sangdo is playing in the cafe,’ Byungjoo said, pointing his hand at the cafe door. 'Hansol must be there, too.’

At that moment, the door opened, and Hansol peeked out into the street. Byungjoo waved at him.

‘We’re coming!’ he called.

Hansol walked out and closed the door, and Byungjoo hurried towards him, inviting the others with a gesture. But Hansol was looking somewhere over his shoulder, squinting. Byungjoo looked over at the others , too, –  _hope they didn’t start fighting again, -_ but they were just catching up with him quickly. Yooncheol looked at Hansol and raised his hand to wave, too, and then Sangwon followed suit.

Hansol’s eyes widened. Byungjoo squinted at him.

‘Hey!’

Hansol glanced at him briefly and his gaze wandered over his shoulder again, and Byungjoo stopped and turned back. All the others had gathered behind him, doubting whether to stop or to go on. Only Yooncheol didn’t stop. He walked around Byungjoo towards the cafe, and smiled at Hansol.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Let’s probably come in?’

Hansol gasped. One quick step – and he threw his arms around Yooncheol and buried his face in his dirty coat,  as if he hadn’t seen him for a hundred years.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered. ‘So sorry...’

Yooncheol stumbled back, to keep on his feet under the rush of Hansol's tenderness. His hands jerked to hug him back – but he glanced at them and hesitated.

‘Come on, come on, I’m all dirty,’ he muttered, trying half-heartedly to peel Hansol off himself. ‘You don’t wanna smell of me.’

But Hansol paid no attention. His shoulders were shaking again, and Yooncheol looked over his head at Byungjoo – and Byungjoo met his  exasperated stare.

_I’d love to help you, but how, -_ he thought, and shrugged. Yooncheol sighed, a look on his face more pained than anything else.

‘Why are you sorry?’ he asked with a deep sigh, and his voice sounded almost as broken as Hansol’s own.

Byungjoo looked away, trying to leave them alone but not wanting to leave, and found everyone else had disappeared in the cafe, now taking different seats at the tables inside. Byungjoo grabbed the handle, and then he heard Hansol’s quiet voice behind his back:

‘I’m so guilty. I inflicted so much bad on you, I just… I’m just so sorry, I don’t _ever_ want to do this to you in reality!’

Yooncheol let out a little desperate sigh.

‘I know,’ he said softly, and Byungjoo dared to look over his shoulder, - but Yooncheol wasn’t looking at him any more. He put his arms around Hansol, and drew him in, as Byungjoo had rarely seen him do. He opened the door a crack, letting out the sounds of Sangdo’s song, - and then closed it again. Neither Hansol nor Yooncheol looked up at him. He seemingly stopped existing. Byungjoo froze in one place, becoming one with the wall. He felt like he was let in on something very mysterious, secret and intimate, and like he had no right to watch, but he stayed nevertheless, trying not to breathe.

‘I… I don’t want to hurt you,’ Hansol sobbed, grasping at Yooncheol’s shoulders, and Yooncheol pressed him closer to his chest.

‘I know,’ he repeated. ‘Please, please, don’t cry. Please.’

Hansol nodded into his shoulder and went quiet, shaking slightly.

‘Listen. Listen to me, alright?’ Yooncheol whispered, leaning down to his ear.

Hansol nodded again.

‘This is all fictional,’ Yooncheol said quietly, confidently. ‘This is all untrue. Look, you never even did anything terrible in this universe. You were a young boy, and a scared and confused one. And I was just a little too stubborn, and just a little too unprepared to fight.’

‘I left you alone,’ Hansol exhaled.

‘You wanted the best. You didn’t flee, you ran for help.’

Byungjoo looked down. Yooncheol was saying exactly what Hansol needed to hear – and he believed it wholeheartedly. Byungjoo himself would have already told Hansol he’s being dumb, and made him cry even harder.

‘I did...’ Hansol mewled.

‘See? I knew it. Even the Yooncheol that was in this universe knew you wouldn’t hurt him. He knew you wanted to save us both. And I know that, too.’

Hansol sniffed, turning his head and resting it comfortably against Yooncheol’s shoulder.

‘You know… I compared what’s going on in these universes… and reality.’

‘Why?’

Hansol shrugged. Yooncheol lifted his eyes from staring at his dark hair, and his stare jibbed into Byungjoo. Byungjoo smiled faintly. Yooncheol changed in the face and the little motion he made with his head clearly indicated that Byungjoo should have long been in the cafe. Byungjoo sent him an apologetic glance with a half-bow, and slipped inside, casting the last longing look at Hansol and Yooncheol, still in an embrace, talking quietly to each other. He felt a sting of regret, and simultaneously with that – a sting from his wounded thighs. He looked around, taking in the room.

Now, the cafe looked like a theatrical scenery for some reason, and Byungjoo couldn’t help a feeling that everyone was an actor there. Part of the room at the back was cleared, and the tables were moved more tightly together to give Sangdo space. He had set up a small keyboard, the guitar he had brought, and a mic, and had just finished some beautiful and melodic song. Jiho was sitting the closest to him, at the table together with Sangwon and Sanggyun. Sanggyun was trying his best to support a conversation, and kept trying to draw Sangwon’s attention, but Sangwon’s stare returned every now and then to the window, and Byungjoo knew exactly what he was looking at. For himself, he decided to leave Hansol and Yooncheol alone for the time being. Sanggyun finally give up on Sangwon and accepted Jiho’s answer to whatever he was saying. Byungjoo nodded to himself.

Sehyuk stood up from the table by the window, where he had been sitting with Hojoon, and moved to a free table a little further from him. He sent Hojoon a smile, which looked mostly apologetic, and Hojoon just nodded calmly. Byungjoo walked carefully between the tables and took a seat beside him.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hey,’ Hojoon replied, his intonation unclear.

Sangdo started playing another song. Byungjoo watched as Yooncheol let Hansol in first, and they joined Sehyuk at his table. Hojoon was silent, and Byungjoo didn’t try to talk to him. He looked at Sangdo and caught him stealing glances at Hojoon. Hojoon himself didn’t raise his head from his phone. Byungjoo sighed.

He was desperate to know what was going on. Perfect Sangdo and all-knowing Hojoon were always slightly aside. They were from a different world, far away from Byungjoo’s wretched corner, threatening to fall apart any second. He didn’t exactly want a place in their steady world, now certain it was all an illusion. Part of him desperately wanted to see them as wretched as he was – just to know that even the best of his friends, even those who had it together, could fall apart as well. He knew it was a bad, selfish wish, but he didn’t deny it. He knew better than to deny anything bad and selfish that there was about him.

* * *

 

As songs passed, Byungjoo felt fatigue wash over him. He took off his glasses and let the world slip into blur. He stared indifferently in front of himself, into motions and colours, and tried not to think. The music helped. His eyelids started to feel heavy quickly, and his blinks grew longer and slower.

He felt a hand grab his shoulder and shake him.

‘Byungjoo, don’t sleep,’ Hojoon’s voice said right over his ear. ‘We have to do it together.’

Byungjoo nodded with a sigh, slipping his glasses back on.

‘I’m exhausted,’ he confessed, looking at Hojoon.

‘Me too,’ Hojoon nodded. ‘There’s a little left. Twenty minutes at most. Then we’ll all be free to go.’

‘Do you like the music?’

Hojoon nodded.

‘Yeah. I do. It’s nice and atmospheric.’

‘What about the musician?’

He expected a prickly look, but Hojoon just looked down and sighed.

‘I do,’ he said, quietly. ‘He’s a good musician.’

‘A person, not so much?’

Hojoon gave a deep sigh and put his palms together, connecting the fingertips to match precisely.

‘It’s… not that he’s a bad person,’ he said, and Byungjoo had to lean in slightly to hear him alright. ‘He just wants to please everyone. And you can’t please everyone, you gotta know that well.’

Byungjoo nodded, frowning.

‘Of course you can’t.’

‘Everyone seems to understand that, except for him,’ Hojoon said, pressing his lips to his fingertips.

‘But you couldn’t have not tried to talk some sense into him.’

Hojoon gave a small, bitter laugh.

‘Not tried?! God knows I spent too much time and energy trying to tell him how wrong he was. I just stopped a while ago. I gave up. Was feeling loads better.’

‘Nothing helped?’ Byungjoo asked unsurely.

Hojoon shook his head.

‘Nah. Nuth’n at all.’

They both were silent for a little while. One song ended, and another began.

‘I guess I sort of… accepted it. Accepted that I could change nothing. I was okay with that,’ he smiled bitterly. ‘Until it concerned me.’

Byungjoo narrowed his eyes.

‘Huh?’

Hojoon took another deep breath, then slowly exhaled.

‘You see,’ he said, ‘when you’re trying to please everybody, some people can get hurt.’

‘You got hurt.’

Hojoon smirked again, looking away.

‘Do I look it?’

Byungjoo chewed on his lower lip.

‘No, not that,’ Hojoon turned back to look at him. ‘Do you think I’m _capable?’_

Byungjoo felt a lump gather up in his throat.

‘We’re all capable,’ he said slowly. ‘Capable of feeling pain. Capable of feeling something bad and something that’s looked down upon. You got jealous, right?’

Hojoon looked down.

‘I did,’ he didn’t even hesitate. ‘For a little while, though. That’s not the problem.’

‘What _is_ the problem?’

Hojoon rubbed his face with his palm.

‘I’m not sure if I want to share it,’ he confessed wearily. ‘Also, not sure that I wanna share it with _you_.’

Byungjoo nodded seriously.

‘I get it,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. If you don’t wanna share it, so be it. I’ve heard enough. Anyway, you can trust me that no one will know this from me.’

Hojoon nodded.

‘I know that no one will,’ he said. ‘You’re good at keeping secrets, aren’t you?’

He pierced Byungjoo with his stare, and Byungjoo felt his thighs start to itch.

‘I am,’ he said, bearing the look. Hojoon nodded.

‘That was rhetorical. I’m sorry that I know.’

Byungjoo swallowed bitter saliva.

‘ _What_ do you know?’ he asked, mustering a calm tone.

‘Your thighs,’ Hojoon replied, rubbing his palm together. ‘Let’s say I weren’t always asleep when you thought I was, and there was more light in the room than you thought there was. I’m not some kind of a mind-reader, just observant.’

Byungjoo licked his lips. His back felt hot and cold at the same time.

‘Gonna comment on it?’ he asked hoarsely.

Hojoon shook his head.

‘No.’

‘Thanks.’

A pair of hands lay on their table – fingers soft and slightly crooked, a few rings decorating them.

‘Are we going?’ Sangdo asked softly. ‘I’m done playing for tonight.’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Yes, we’re absolutely going. Come call all the others, we’ll be waiting outside, alright?’

Sangdo nodded, casting another glance at Hojoon, but saying nothing else. He turned and headed off to Sehyuk. Byungjoo rose and invited Hojoon along with a move of his head.

* * *

Outside, it’s gotten cool. Byungjoo and Hojoon waited under the streetlight in comfortable silence. Byungjoo stared at the shadows, moving ever so slightly, and didn't think of anything in particular. That was an easing feeling.

Yooncheol walked out first, alone, and joined their silence seamlessly and comfortably. Neither minded him. Yooncheol's was a healing presence, Byungjoo thought. Then Sangwon walked out with Hansol, Sanggyun trying to catch up and followed by Jiho. Sangdo and Sehyuk were the last ones, closing the door.

‘Where can we go?’ Byungjoo asked, looking in eight pair of waiting eyes. ‘To some park again?’

‘Good idea, actually,’ Sangdo replied, looking around. ‘There's a park not far away, and it has quite a lot of out-of-the-way places. Do you have the sleeping pills on you?’

Byungjoo searched his pockets and a little backpack he turned out to have, and found the pills in a plastic bottle.

‘I do,’ he said, showing them off.

Sangdo nodded.

‘Nice. Let’s go?’

Everyone nodded, but no one hurried to go. The atmosphere was sleepy and somewhat strained for some reason. Sangdo turned and led the way, inviting others with a gesture, and everyone followed suit, in little companies talking to each other separately. Byungjoo ended up at the tail with Hojoon, and they walked along in silence for a little while.

Byungjoo started zoning out again, when Hojoon suddenly spoke.

‘So, you wanna know what’s going on?’ he asked out of the blue, and it took Byungjoo a few seconds to understand what he meant.

‘Yeah, I do,’ he nodded, glancing at him. ‘You decided to share?’

Hojoon smiled.

‘Yeah, I sort of want somebody to know. See, it’s nice to get some perspective.'

Byungjoo shrugged.

'Then so be it.'

Hojoon licked his lips.

'You know, there was a time in my life where I was going through a lot of shit.’

Byungjoo hemmed.

‘A while ago?’

‘Quite a while. Half a year ago, maybe. Or a bit more. It began then. The only person who knew about it was Sangdo.’

‘You’re together.’

It wasn’t a question. Byungjoo stated the fact, and he knew it. He also knew that certain others thought like he did, and that certain  _other_ others wouldn’t be surprised if they found out.

Hojoon nodded.

‘We are.’

He said it simply, just the way things like those had to be said. Byungjoo smiled.

‘Don’t worry, no one knows from me.’

Hojoon shrugged.

‘I wouldn’t mind if they did. This is a topic of jokes, and I don’t think anyone would actually be surprised. But back to the story. That was a shitty period in my life, and I came to Sangdo for help. There’s a good side to loving a person like him: he tries to be good to _everyone,_ and that includes his datemate. In fact, it squares on his datemate.’

‘It’s funny that you call yourself a datemate.’

‘A boyfriend. Does that sound okay?’

Byungjoo waved his hand in the air.

‘Whatever you wish to call it. So, you came to him for help, and he refused?’

Hojoon pressed up his lips, as if gathering his thought together.

‘Well, there was another problem. At that time, Sangdo was very busy. In his free time, he was always hanging around in his studio, composing and singing and recording, and guess with whom.’

‘With Yooncheol?’

‘Bingo,’ Hojoon gave him a lonely, weary finger-gun. ‘Whom else. And, you know… those days he was always tired. He tried to listen to me, but he had trouble doing that. I didn’t blame him, though. I tried to help myself. Jiho turned out to be willing to listen a lot, but I wasn’t ready to share a lot with him. He eased me a bit, so I could carry on. Carry on for months on end. I knew that Sangdo needed his time to work and hang out, and I gave him that time. Very soon, however, Sangdo was content with my ‘I’m fine’s, and I just kept waiting for a good night to tell him everything that was bothering me – and that list just kept adding up.’

He was silent for a little while, walking alongside Byungjoo. Byungjoo waited patiently. At length, Hojoon spoke again:

‘But the nights when Sangdo wasn’t too tired, he always went out. I was never invited, because at that time I had been working myself off my feet for a while. So he never waited for me, he just went out, and the few times I asked him to stay home he said that he had ‘already promised’, and that ‘that would be impolite’. We almost stopped seeing each other at that point. My rejoice was Jiho, and Sangdo seemed to have more fun with Yooncheol than he had ever had with me. They just clicked. They have much more in common than I do with any one of them. I must say, Yooncheol is an awesome guy, just like Jiho. Just like everyone from this group.’

Byungjoo licked his teeth thoughtfully.

‘So you just sort of… drifted apart?’

Hojoon sighed.

‘That’s what I thought, to be honest,’ he said, and his voice sounded bitter. ‘Sangdo never told me he didn’t want me any more – he just kept on saying he loved me, automatically, as he was used to. Everything was automatic then – automatic words, questions… touches...’ He sighed again, deeply. ‘There was one night when I was really just on edge. I felt as alone as I had never felt before, and I’ve never felt that alone since. I felt like I was floating in the void. And I decided I just needed to know what was going on between us – and between them. And I called him. He was out with Yooncheol, as usual. I think they had recorded everything they wanted by then, and just kept hanging out all the time. I called Sangdo, and I asked him to come over, because it was urgent. I told him I was feeling bad, and that I had to talk to him.’

His voice broke, and he pressed up his lips. Byungjoo watched him intently, but not a single tear escaped his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then another. Byungjoo waited silently.

‘He told me he was out and quite far away. I told him to just come over at once. And he…’ he took another deep breath and looked away. Byungjoo looked up and saw the park they were most likely aiming for. Hojoon breathed in again. ‘He told me to wait for him till _maybe past midnight_ , because what he was out for _was also urgent._ And then… then he told me to _just talk to Jiho._ And then he would come and listen to me gladly. And then I heard a voice call him, and he shouted: “Just a second, Cheolie!” And then something just… broke between us.’

‘That is... a shitty situation,’ Byungjoo admitted, feeling a little satisfied.

Hojoon nodded, and as Byungjoo looked at him, he noticed his eyes sparkling weirdly. He tried to suppress the  _bad and selfish_ feeling, and put his hand on Hojoon’s back.

‘I just went to bed,’ Hojoon said, quietly, in a hollow voice. ‘I cried myself to sleep like the most pathetic bitch, and I don’t know when he came back to the dorm. I was waiting for him to shout everything I was feeling into his face, but he didn’t show up. Not at midnight. Not at one AM. In the morning, he was sleeping in his bed. He never even tried asking me what was wrong. When he woke up, he just asked me if I was fine, in the most mundane tone...’ he let out a loud breath. ‘We never broke up.’

Byungjoo looked down.

‘That’s… really strange. I wouldn’t expect Sangdo to do anything like that.’

Hojoon sniffed slightly and pulled a face, looking away.

‘Neither would I, to be honest. I woke up with a firm decision to be silent until _he_ decided to talk and find out what’s wrong. But that never happened. I waited, and then I stopped waiting. I just watched him hang out with Yooncheol. And if you wanna laugh at me for waiting insted of picking up a converation, - Sangdo _knew_ he was guilty. When he does something really bad, he starts avoiding you, he's so afraid of someone being displeased with him.’

Byungjoo shook his head. Something seemed odd to him.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Wait a sec. So you think he dumped you for Yooncheol and never said anything?’

Hojoon shrugged.

‘I don’t know what to think. He tried to talk to me a couple times, but never when we were alone. Always when there were people around, and he avoided staying alone in the room with me.'

‘No, you tell me, do you think he’s sleeping with Yooncheol?’

Hojoon slapped his hips.

‘What else was I to think?!’

Byungjoo smiled slightly.

‘Look, Hojoonie,’ he said softly. ‘Maybe I’ll ease you up a bit now. That’s completely not possible.’

Hojoon glanced at him, his eyes those of a little beaten animal.

‘How so?’ he asked, and his voice was prickly, as if he regretted his confessions.

Byungjoo sighed.

‘The thing is,’ he said, ‘Yooncheol loves Hansol so madly he wouldn’t even look at anyone else. I’m fairly certain about it at this point.’

Hojoon stopped and froze. Byungjoo had to stop, too, glancing at Jiho and Sanggyun’s backs before turning to Hojoon.

‘What did you just say?..’ Hojoon asked, his voice uncertain.

Byungjoo raised his eyebrows.

‘What, are you surprised?’

Hojoon covered the distance between them in just a few big steps, and kept on walking in the same wide pace. Byungjoo hurried after him.  Hojoon kept staring at the ground, chewing on his lips.

‘So what you’re saying is, Hansol and Yooncheol are… together?’

Byungjoo shrugged.

‘I don’t know how together they are, but I know for certain that Yooncheol only has eyes for Hansol, and although it came as a surprise to me, too, I can assure you that it is so.’

He lied just a little. If Hojoon asked him for proof, he wouldn’t have any solid evidence to give him, except for the gut feeling. But Hojoon didn’t ask for evidence.

‘Oh my fuck...’ he exhaled.

He slowed down again to keep lagging behind, and Byungjoo kept up with him. Pride bloomed in his chest: he knew something Hojoon didn’t, and it made him feel good.

‘So… I _did_ notice this,’ Hojoon said finally, his voice bitter. 'I did, and I brushed it off. I decided I was just seeing things. There were times I was absolutely certain - and then I convinced myself once again it was untrue. It's like I believed what I wanted to believe. I fooled myself.'

‘Sort of,’ Byungjoo hemmed. ‘I’m surprised, to be honest. Again.’

Hojoon shoved his hands into his pockets. His shoulders hunched, and his lisp sounded stronger than ever when he asked, in a trembly voice:

‘Who else knows?’

He wasn't scared for Yooncheol and Hansol's privacy, and Byungjoo knew that. He was only concerned for how ignorant he had been. Byungjoo shrugged.

‘I didn’t share my observations.’

‘Not even with Sangwon?’

Byungjoo shook his head.

‘Least of all with him.’

He felt like he wasn't telling Hojoon the whole truth, and he felt a little guilty. He calmed himself down with the fact he was just answering the questions he was asked. In that, he was clean. Hojoon exhaled raggedly.

‘I’m getting old,’ he muttered, and Byungjoo felt a wave of protest rising from the bottom of his chest.

‘Not at all,’ he retorted hotly. ‘They’re pretty secretive, especially Yooncheol – he’s generally reserved, you know him. I think he’s even afraid that anyone will find out. They're both careful not to leavy evidence, and to make all suspicions seem ungrounded. Moreover, you were feeling shitty then, and I don’t know how to think straight when you’re absorbed with loneliness and pain.’

This turned out more heartfelt than he intended, and Hojoon brought his finger to his lips hurriedly. Byungjoo trailed off and looked away, hoping no one turned to look at them. He tried looking at the park, but it was approaching a little too quickly. He was surprised to confess, but he actually enjoyed talking to Hojoon.

Hojoon sighed by his side.

‘I really made a fool of myself,’ he said quietly. ‘Guess it was the same with Sangdo. I made myself believe what I thought was true. We just misunderstood each other. Maybe it’s my fault, after all.’

The words resonated with Byungjoo’s insides, and he felt his thighs sting again.

‘Personally, I don’t see you as guilty,’ he said, again a bit more heartily than he intended. ‘You were going through shit, and you needed help, and it was only natural to expect it from your boyfriend – however busy he was with making music and pleasing everybody. On the second thought, you maybe should have reminded him you felt bad, insted of telling him you were fine - after all, people can't read minds...'

Hojoon sighed, looking away.

'But it's only understandable, in the state you were in,' Byungjoo hurried. 'You know, what you told me about Sangdo totally weirds me out. That was real insensitive.'

Hojoon pulled a face, but nodded.

‘Thank you,’ he said sincerely; and suddenly, for the first time in a long time, Byungjoo realized that he liked Hojoon a lot.

_ Poor guy, so lost and trying to make everyone of us a functioning adult…  _ He felt a lot like Hojoon was trying to adopt Sehyuk’s role of a leader, and he felt _a little_ like Sehyuk didn’t like it much.

‘Sangdo owes you an apology,’ he said. ‘And don’t buy anything less than that.’

Hojoon nodded and smiled, glancing up at Byungjoo.

‘This was therapeutic,’ he said, with unusual softness in his voice. ‘Thanks, Joo-joo.’

Byungjoo raised his eyebrows. Usually, only Sangdo called them by nicknames, and he realized just how fond of Sangdo Hojoon was still. They were birds of a feather, and he caught himself hoping they would actually make up.

‘It’s okay,’ he reassured, unable to help a smile back. ‘Any time.’

‘I hope I won’t need it again,’ Hojoon shrugged. ‘To pour my problems out onto somebody like this. Especially someone who didn't sign up to listening to me whine.’

‘This was actually nice,’ Byungjoo confessed.

‘Byungjoo, sleeping pills?’

He glanced up at Jiho. Yooncheol waved at them from afar, holding up a bottle of water, quickly approaching. They were already at the park, although Byungjoo hadn’t noticed when that happened.

He retrieved the sleeping pills from his backpack and handed them out. Hojoon was the last to take his pill from him. Yooncheol walked around everyone, offering water.

Byungjoo sat down onto the bench, and Sehyuk immediately plopped down beside him.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Saw you talking to Hojoon, didn’t want to interrupt, or whatever. How are you?’

Byungjoo glanced at him, and felt anger stirring at the bottom of his chest.  _ You’re a picky asshole, -  _ he told Sehyuk silently.  _ Sangwon wants to forget your falling out altogether, but you're holding a grudge now. You always wanna be the bigger person, where's your 'bigness'  now? _

‘I’m actually pretty good,’ he said aloud, sincerely. ‘Better than I did, anyway.’

Sehyuk smiled slightly. Byungjoo sighed. He couldn’t help being angry. He accepted the bottle from Yooncheol’s hands with a quiet thank-you. As he took the pill he glanced up at Yooncheol and noticed his stern gaze. He crossed his fingers in front of his mouth.  _ I’ll keep silent. _ Yooncheol squinted at him distrustfully, and Byungjoo felt guilty. Yooncheol had every reason not to believe him. Byungjoo already told Hojoon what he had only been guessing. What if he was wrong altogether?..

Sehyuk tapped his lap.

‘Wanna lie down?’

Byungjoo eyed him up and down. Sehyuk had a guilty look on his face, and Byungjoo felt like he owed an apology, too – not only to Sangwon, but to Byungjoo himself. He wasn’t sure exactly for what.

‘Not really,’ he said, propping down on the bench, his feet to Sehyuk. ‘Nighty.’

He heard Sehyuk sigh quietly.

‘Goodnight.’

His thoughts rushed to Sangdo and Hojoon, thinking a little too late about what he had heard. What Hojoon described didn't seem like Sangdo at all.

_ There must have been something else between him and Yooncheol, - _  Byungjoo thought, trying to fight back the sleepy dizziness.  _Something Hojoon didn't need to know. Sangdo fucked up big time, but he couldn't just leave Hojoon behind to HANG OUT. No-o, there was something else. Something that would make such a fuckup worth it in Sangdo's eyes..._

He selfishly enjoyed the thought of Sangdo's mistake. But he nevertheless felt like Sangdo was the type of person to only do the  _right_ thing. Even if it was only right in his own mindset.

_ What did he decide so right as to justify leaving Hojoon alone in the time of trouble?.. _

He felt a hand stroking his knee, and he knew at once who that was. Sehyuk was still sitting at his feet, and Byungjoo felt some little painful tenderness. Sehyuk was bad at caring for people - for caring even for himself, - and this is how he was different from Sangdo, and even from Hojoon. But he tried so hard to care for Byungjoo, and it was so sloppy and wrong, but Byungjoo was grateful to him for trying.

But now he was angry. Sehyuk and Sangwon's falling out was getting on his nerves. It affected too many people they didn't seem to notice.

_ Oh, what a prick you are, -  _ he thought. -  _ An irresponsible prick. You try to be a leader, but all you want is to fight. _

He sighed quietly. Sehyuk tried his best to make Byungjoo feel at home, but after this day -  _this fucking day -_ he realized full well that Sehyuk's fear of responsibility was no longer a matter of jokes.

_ Fuck you, -  _ he thought. -  _ I wish Hansol was… _

And that was the last selfish thought he had, before darkness much thicker than sleep overwhelmed him and washed everything away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of messy, and I kept rewriting it again and again. Posting finally! Again gotta tell you that I love you all who read this <3


	6. Sangwon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sangwon's bust here:  
> http://tom-failure.tumblr.com/post/168023675608/we-dont-have-that-much-time-hero-number-five  
> See the descriptions of other chapters for other members

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...the river,  
>  Full of mud and dense with weeds,  
> A century of odd debris,  
> We learned to fight and learned to love.
> 
> Jason Webley – Ways to Love

 

_I wish Hansol was…_

Sangwon opened his eyes wide and took a sharp, deep breath. The blackness fell back, quickly recoiling and giving way to dim light; and the startled phrase, sounding in Sangwon’s mind in his own voice, broke and dissolved, remaining unfinished. Sangwon inhaled again, deeply, staring at the dull grey over him with unseeing eyes. Sights flashed in front of him, changing quicker than he could decipher them, and his senses and memory quickly returned.

He remembered who he had been. Everything he had been through, his thoughts and half-faded fake memories.

Then, he remembered who he was. His feelings and ideas, forming _himself_.

He sat up sharply and blinked a couple times. The visions disappeared, and the world surrounding him remained, coloured grey and brown, dimly lit, and smelling of sweat, rot and rubbish. Sangwon knew who he was and what he needed to do.

_I am the hero._

He winced slightly, inhaling the smell. He reached his hands up and rubbed his eyes hard, cleaning the inner corners from the unpleasant sticky residue. His ribs ached dully and his shoulders itched and stung. He acknowledged the sensation, and tried his best to breathe deeply.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He blinked a few times and focused. The first thing he noticed was how dirty everything was. He was now sitting up on a mattress on the floor, but the floor itself wasn’t visible from under rags, leftovers of food, dirty tie-up boots – and other mattresses, lots and lots of other mattresses, tossed haphazardly around. On each mattress, somebody was beginning to stir.

Something shoved Sangwon in the shoulder, and a dirty boy, not older than seventeen, wearing only loose johns, climbed over him, boasting a hole on the left buttock.

‘Lamar! Lamar, god damn you! Wake up!’

Sangwon followed the boy with his stare as he climbed over a few others. Not all were as calm as Sangwon, and some kicked him as he passed, but the boy didn’t pay much attention. He reached his victim – another boy, still asleep; probably, aforementioned Lamar, - and started shaking him violently. Lamar groaned something unintelligible and pulled his thin and tattered blanket over his head.

Sangwon blinked a few times again and glanced down at his own legs, covered with some big rag that was once blue. He threw it off to reveal his own johns, ridden up to reveal a pair of scratched knees. His feet were beaten as well, covered in black stains, lacking a few toenails.

_What universe is this?_

By the surroundings Sangwon could hardly tell. The boys in the room were getting up little by little, a few started getting dressed. Sangwon glanced around, and noticed a messy pile at the foot of his mattress – most probably, his own clothes. He fetched them and separated the pile to look at each item more closely.

_What do I have?_

He had an old-fashioned shirt, once white, and now yellowish and dusty, as well as a pair of patched trousers with a rope instead of a belt, a waistcoat, at least a century old, a brown flat cap, and something resembling makeshift socks. He also had a pair of boots standing by the head of his mattress, half-stuffed under the mattress itself, like a prized possession.

‘Hey, Reemu! You stole my shirt, give that shit back!’

‘The fuck you talking about, that’s mine!’

Sangwon glanced up, grabbing his own clothes protectively, involuntarily. A tall guy was standing with his arms in the sleeves of a shirt, grasping at it for dear life, while the other one, smaller but broader, was tugging at that shirt desperately.

‘Reemu, give that shit back! The sleeves are too short for you!’

‘You crazy bastard, my shirts always have short sleeves, I’ve motherfuckin’ long arms!’

The two kept bickering, mostly ignored by the others, tugging at the shirt. The shorter boy tried to pick up a fight, but another shirt landed on his face just on time.

‘Here’s yours, Taero,’ a chubby boy called wearily. ‘Leave him the fuck alone.’

Taero’s ears turned scarlet. He grabbed the shirt with his one hand, and with the other he threw his end of Reemu’s shirt into his face. Without a word, he huffed belligerently and turned away, getting expressly busy with his clothes. Reemu pulled a face and quickly finished dressing up.

Sangwon glanced down at his own shirt, and lifted it to look at it more closely. It had makeshift lacing around the throat, and no buttons. Sangwon pulled it on over his head and found it a little too big. He had to roll his sleeves up to free his hands.

The trousers were too big for him as well, and the rope in the belt loops cracked menacingly as Sangwon tied it around his waist. His body was skinny and bruised, and hunger was torturing his stomach. Sangwon licked his dry lips.

_How lucky am I to be a fucking beggar?_

He sat down on the crumpled sheets, facing the small dirty window, and put on his socks, finding holes on the toes and the heels. He pulled them down as well as he could to avoid getting his toes in the holes, but as soon as he shoved his feet into the boots, his big toe escaped immediately. Sangwon couldn’t help a little frustrated groan. The boots turned out to feel quite nasty inside, and he winced as he tied them.

Some of the guys left the room, some only just started to rise. Someone stumbled to the window, wearing just one untied shoe, and rubbed the glass with his sleeve in a vain attempt to clean it. Sangwon watched him lazily. Something outside drew the boy’s attention, and he clung to the window. Sangwon squinted at him, pulling on his cap.

‘Guys! Guys!’ the boy cried suddenly, turning back to those remaining in the room. ‘It’s a zeppelin! A hu-uge one!!! Come on, come on!!!’

And he clung to the dirty glass again, grasping at it, as if he wanted to get right through it.

The boys jumped to their feet and hurried towards the window. Some of them were half-dressed, and some were losing their underwear on their way, but they ran and stumbled on, jumping over each other’s heads. Someone snatched Sangwon on his way past and dragged him on to the window, but the boys closest to the glass had already turned away from it.

‘It’s a whole zeppelin parade!’ somebody cried. ‘Come on out, come on out!’

The flow of boys dragged Sangwon in the opposite direction, and he hurried along, catching the boys picking up their clothes on the way, out of the corner of his eye.

The boys ran out of the room and into the dark, narrow corridor with a few more doors on both sides. More girls and boys joined them, running out of those doors, - they were of different age, but just as dirty. Everyone was shouting, cursing, and chanting, the sounds mixing into a wild roar, and Sangwon found himself deafened. Somebody – he was almost sure it was Taero – turned to him on the go and shouted something into his face, but his words got lost in the surrounding noise. The next moment, the corridor ended abruptly, and along with hearing, Sangwon lost his sight to the blinding white light.

For a few seconds, he was just fiercely blinking and squinting, until finally he could see. He glanced around himself. The light from the grey sky was cold, shining down onto the dirty street filled with people. People were all of different ages, some so old they were barely holding on, and some toddlers on mothers’ and fathers’ arms and shoulders, but everyone’s stare was directed at the sky. Finally, Sangwon looked up himself, and the sight made his mouth open slightly in fascination.

Zeppelins were floating across the white sky in no hurry, like majestic hippos. The puffing, droning, and now and then clanging sounds reached the earth vaguely. The inflated bodies of the machines reflected the cold light from the skies, becoming greyish, although Sangwon could guess their usual lively orange. The zeppelins formed a wide angle, guarded on the sides by lightweight planes which looked especially tiny in comparison to magnificent airships.

Somebody put their arm around Sangwon’s shoulders and leaned onto him casually. Sangwon moved his shoulders uneasily and looked over - just to almost _bump_ his face into the other’s. The guy leaning on him was visibly older, his face pale, sickly, and dirty.

‘Ain’t seen these bad blokes in a while,’ he drawled, looking up at the zeppelins above. His accent was so heavy Sangwon barely understood what he said.

‘Where are they going?’ he asked just to ask something.

The pale guy gave him a condescending glance.

‘Lad, you must be outta your birds. Of course they goin’ to the seaside. Gonna transport them to the base, and there they be waitin’ for order.’

Sangwon frowned slightly, looking back up at the sky. _What order?.._ The pale guy hemmed at his ear.

‘Is almost like you ain’t leave here, you ain’t know where they going. Tell me now you ain’t know what order they waiting for.’

Sangwon huffed.

‘Of course I do!’

The guy nodded on the edge of his field of vision.

‘Course you do. These blokes are gonna beat the shit outta those cheating bastards, and ain’t no magic gonna save them. Gonna smash’em before they even cast a single lousy spell of theirs!’

With these words, the guy slammed his palm on Sangwon’s chest so hard Sangwon’s breath hitched. The guy laughed as he coughed.

‘Hold still, ‘Wonie-lad, if you wanna fly one of these bad fellows one day. You gotta be strong!’

Sangwon winced, jerking his shoulder, trying to push the guy’s long arms off himself, but he couldn’t. The guy leaned onto him again.

‘Which one d’ye wanna fly, though? One of these night owls? Or maybe that big ole metal bastard, one bomb down and city is gone? O-o-oh, or are you wan’ be a fuckin’ die-hard on that weeny soft thingy? Tell me you a die-hard, Wonie, tell me that.’

Sangwon sighed.

‘Nah, I’m not a die-hard,’ he said, cracking a little smile. ‘I wanna fly one of these up there. They look pretty dangerous, right?’

The pale guy pulled an offended face and finally released Sangwon’s shoulders.

‘No need to talk to me like am a toddler,’ he said. ‘I know zeppelins, they ain’t just ‘look dangerous’!’

He mocked Sangwon’s intonation so childishly Sangwon couldn’t help a wide grin, turning to face him.

‘You said you aren’t a toddler, didn’t you? Well, you sure do talk like one.’

The pale guy knitted his eyebrows.

‘You always been a rude bastard,’ he spat, crossing his arms on his chest. ‘They ain’t need fuckers like you on them zeppelins. Watch me, I’m gonna wave down at ye from one of these soon.’

‘Sangwon!’ someone called. Sangwon glanced around for the caller. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the last zeppelin disappear from view behind one of the roofs and the streets started to clear. When he turned back for the pale guy, he was gone.

‘Sangwon!’

This time the voice sounded much closer, and as Sangwon looked he saw Taero quickly approaching, pushing people out of his way.

‘There you at!’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Been looking for ya. You lost yo’ cap.’

With this, he handed Sangwon a beaten brown cap – the same that he had put on before being pulled out of the room so abruptly. Sangwon accepted it and dusted it off – it looked like someone had stepped on it.

‘Are you sure you’re not confusing it with your own?’ he teased, smiling. Taero huffed in disgust.

‘I washed mine, it ain’t dried yet. And yours is ugly.’

Sangwon pulled a face. He opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment a loud shout sounded over the street.

‘Wizards! Wizards are here!’

Taero turned, pricked up, and looked around.

‘Where?!’ he shouted in reply, and turned his head, listening intently.

‘Right here!’ some other voice replied.

Taero turned to Sangwon and his face lit up with the brightest smile.

‘Wanna see them wizards get beat?’

Sangwon frowned.

 _Why would I, -_ he almost said, but, thankfully, Taero didn’t let him open his mouth.

‘Come on, hurry up!’ he called, turned and ran to where a small crowd had already gathered.

Sangwon squinted, heading for the gathering in no hurry. He couldn’t distinguish anything that was going on in its core – not anyone ‘getting beat’. The shouts of those encouraging were too loud to hear if the fight was actually happening, and the crowd was growing bigger by second.

Suddenly, there was a blue flash from the middle of the people, and a hundred of simultaneous gasps, and then a pained howl. People backed off, and for a spare second Sangwon glimpsed a person in the gap. They were dressed in leather and metal, pricked up, lowered on slightly bent knees, their wild stare wandering from one face to another.

The next moment, a hand grabbed Sangwon’s collar, making his shirt dig painfully into his neck, and dragged him back.

‘You fools!’ a familiar voice called from behind his back. ‘What do you think you doing?! Where do you think you going?! Get back this second! Lamar! Taero! Lina, you girls too, home right now!’

His collar was released quickly, but the hand grabbed the rim of his trousers instead. The voice was too familiar not to recognize. Sangwon swallowed the lump in his throat before turning – he already knew whom he was going to face. Hansol looked up at him from under furrowed brows.

‘Gather up, gather up, you hooligans!’ he called. ‘Go to the kitchen right now, you skipped breakfast to almost get yourselves kill’d! Look at the girls, already going home, they not gonna die like you blockheads! Reemu, I see you!’

‘Hansolie, but the wizards -’ Sangwon heard a pleading voice, but Hansol cut him off:

‘I said go to the kitchen! Sangwon! You too, go right now!’

Hansol jerked his hand away, brushing Sangwon’s lower back, sending shivers up his spine. Sangwon looked down at him, gathering up courage to call his name. In this universe, Hansol was slightly shorter than usual – or at least it seemed so to Sangwon.

‘Why are you standing like this here?’

Sangwon blinked a few times and looked Hansol in the face. Hansol was looking up at him, but his stare was somehow especially powerful.

‘I...’ Sangwon tried, uncertainly, - and knew instantly that it was enough. Hansol raised his eyebrows, and his expression, from angry and concerned, turned into a surprised one – for a split second.

‘Go to the kitchen,’ Hansol said again, his serious, confident tone back in his voice. ‘Just follow the others. And take Taero, here.’

Sangwon nodded obediently and hurried to the door where the other boys were dragging, their heads down low. As he turned at the entrance, Hansol was still standing where he had been, his hands on his hips, his back straight, bossing the rest of the boys around. Making sure that the last one was headed for the door he was pointed to, Hansol turned and hurried after them.

In the corridor, it was dark. He could distinguish the figures moving and he followed them to the open door. Only now did he notice another smell mixing in – a smell of warm food. His stomach gurgled almost painfully, but there were things concerning him more than the hunger. Someone pushed Sangwon in the back, making him quicken his pace, but he kept turning around in hope to see Hansol.

* * *

 

The kitchen wasn’t really big. It was filled with steam and good smells, it was clean, and it was the most pleasant place Sangwon had seen since he woke up – definitely better than the dirty sleeping room, or the stinky narrow street filled with the poor.

The kitchen looked like home, if a steampunk version of it. There was a big stove in the corner, constructed out of brick and riveted metal, opening into something like a chimney right above it. On the stove were two huge pans, and it was definitely them that were giving out the smells – not awesome as is, but delicious for hungry Sangwon. Beside the stove was a long table with two tall piles of metal bowls on it, as well as a wooden box of spoons and some leftovers and traces of the food that had been prepared. The kitchen wasn’t big, but the boys and girls didn’t turn out all that many, upon closer look. Now that they all stood meekly in line, there couldn’t be more than thirty of them. Most were boys, and all of the kids were aged, roughly, from fourteen to eighteen.

Hansol pushed some boys and girls aside and made his way to the stove.

‘Now, come on, one by one,’ he said, his voice much friendlier now, almost motherly. ‘You all gotta eat, and meanwhile I’ll talk some sense into your empty heads. But now just take your food, alright?’

A weak ‘ye-eah’ sounded in reply, and Hansol nodded, satisfied. He grabbed the top bowl from the pile closest to him, and plopped something into it – from one pan, and then the other. The girl, who was the first in line, accepted the bowl from his hand, grabbed a spoon from the box and strutted off to drop down right on the floor and start eating with the mot businesslike expression.

The line wasn’t really stable, and quickly dissolved into a small crowd. Sangwon managed to get his bowl along with a wink from Hansol, and sat down on the floor in the further corner of the room. No one came to sit next to him, so he expected Hansol to come for a talk. Meanwhile he got down to eating: the hunger eating his insides was unlike anything he had previously experienced.

The meal consisted of porridge of unknown cereals and some kind of gravy. It was hard to tell what it was made of, but it was very much edible nevertheless.

_Whatever, I’m not picky._

The warm food filled his stomach pleasantly. Sangwon felt better – comforted, as if the game didn’t exist, and he didn’t have a whole day ahead to be a hero. He looked up – through the lessening crowd he had a good view of Hansol, so he examined him, curiously and tenderly.

He was indeed shorter than usual, but slightly buffer. He was wearing a white shirt – greyish with wear, but spotless, - with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had an apron tied around his neck and waist, and as he stood his legs in worn combat boots wide, to stand firmly on the ground, he looked much more confident – _bigger –_ than Sangwon was used to seeing him. His small hands, however, looked soft and tender, albeit strong, and Sangwon felt a wave of warmth rise up from his abdomen.

He couldn’t help himself. He loved Hansol.

He didn’t fall in love with him at once. Hansol wasn’t Sangwon’s ‘type’, really – he was gushy, easy to cry, and all over the place, and, most importantly, he was a guy. Sangwon wasn’t raised to like guys, - that’s what he had told himself. _As if any one ever was raised for that._

All he knew was that he had to be strong, to keep his feelings at bay, to be reliable – to be _a man_ . _A man,_ in his mind, was that sort of a super hero creature, who was always there to help, who was always distantly sweet, but never allowed himself a weakness. _A man_ never fell down, he was always working, making himself better and protecting all others, who were _not men_ , or _less men._ He didn’t see how a creature like this could ever become intimate with a similar creature. He disliked – no, he _didn’t understand_ the mere idea of a man loving another man.

He had always pictured his love interest as a sort of a pretty sidekick. A person – _a girl –_ who would support his glory of being _a man_ , help him, and then become a damsel in distress just on time for him to save her. Hansol wasn’t quite the adventurous type. He didn’t resemble a pretty sidekick in the slightest. He was a distant, dreamy figure, made of raw feelings and weird perceptions. He changed from loving the whole world unconditionally to being terrified of everything in a split second, always unexpectedly and inconveniently. Sangwon didn’t understand him at first. Hansol was an alien to him.

He didn’t know when Hansol started growing on him. There was just something magnetic about him, and no one could resist his charms – except for Yooncheol, when he wanted to. From casual acquaintances brought together by work, Sangwon and Hansol became good friends. With his good friends, Hansol was physical, but Sangwon had got used to it by then. The warmth between them grew organically. It’s when they became best friends that Sangwon realized how badly scared of the world Hansol was.

He had always dismissed men loving men as _those fags_ . But with Hansol, it was different. He remained the dreamy figure, the face in the locket, Dante’s Beatrice, the embodiment of everything good and beautiful that Sangwon had ever known. There was something poetic about the feeling, and it fell perfectly well into Sangwon’s worldview. He wasn’t one of _those_ fags. He was _a_ _man_. And when he learned – not directly, but by guesses and hints, - that Hansol was struggling, everything in him rose against it. It was a chance for Sangwon to be the saviour, to be the hero.

_Why won’t he accept it? Why won’t he?_

‘Sangwonie?’

Sangwon looked up from his bowl, almost empty. Hansol plopped down beside him, looking carefully around, as if searching for somebody.

‘Hello,’ Sangwon greeted softly, before stuffing his mouth with the last spoonful of porridge – it had grown cold and sticky. ‘Great to see you as the first person I recognize in this universe.’

Hansol looked at him and cracked a little smile.

‘It’s good to see you, Sangwonie. I’m sure you’ll make quite a hero. Have you guessed your universe already?’

Sangwon shrugged.

‘Steampunk?’

Hansol nodded, his gaze already wandering away to search the room again and again.

‘Ye-eah. A pretty bad one to be in, if you ask me.’

‘Huh? Why is that?’ Sangwon put his bowl down to the floor before himself and leaned back on his arms. Hansol glanced at him and moved a little closer.

‘What do you wanna hear first?’ he asked, looking at Sangwon carefully. ‘Who you are or what’s going on?’

Sangwon licked his lips.

‘Let’s start with who I am,’ he decided. ‘Or better, who we all are here.’

Hansol nodded and sighed.

‘Well, anyway the one is impossible to explain without it getting us to the other. Fine, though. You are a factory worker in the Technicians’ ghetto. If you are curious why you aren’t at work, it’s a Sunday. Even the cannon fodder like us need rest so they don’t riot...’

Sangwon pressed up his lips. Hansol was a poet, but he was in no position to appreciate it.

‘Sounds like some pretty messy politics are involved,’ he remarked.

Hansol nodded.

‘You’re right. The mess is enormous. This city is not even the capital, but the divide is strong as ever. You probably noticed me mentioning the Technicians, right?’

Sangwon shrugged.

‘Yeah, was it important?’

Hansol nodded, furrowing his brows as he looked around again.

‘The thing is,’ he said, turning back to Sangwon, ‘is that the Technicians is the name of a fraction. The other fraction is called the Magicians. Obviously, the one sees the only way for this world in technological advance, and the other in magic.’

Sangwon huffed quietly.

‘Wow.’

‘Yeah...’

‘And the magicians are some sort of an elite who has natural powers and they wanna destroy everyone else?’

Hansol gave out a little laugh.

‘Oh. No, that’s not the case. Everyone has magical powers in this world. Everyone has different makings and inclinations, but, technically, anyone can be a magician.’

Sangwon huffed again, louder.

‘Wow. If I had an opportunity, I’d definitely be a magician, you know!’

Hansol brought his finger to his lips.

‘You better keep such ideas to yourself here,’ he said seriously. ‘Each fraction has its ideology. Technicians have theirs. I can elaborate on the history of the divide and the war that is going on, if you want me to.’

Sangwon pulled a face.

‘Duh! Of course I want you to. I’m supposed to proceed undercover in this world and find the others, I need to know as much as possible.’

Hansol nodded, admitting him right.

‘Yeah. But politics and history in general aren’t my forte, you know. I’ll explain the way I understand it. Okay?’

 _Not your forte my ass, -_  Sangwon thought, smilling internally.

‘It’s better that way,’ he reassured aloud, heartily.

Hansol sent him another little smile.

‘I hope so. Well, look. As I said, everyone here has magical powers. Till about two years ago, magic and technology were used side by side in everyday life. Magic was used in medicine, art, entertainment, and such, and sometimes even in mechanical engineering. It was used in prostheses, in turning away terminal illnesses – for that stuff it was just the best. And everything was okay, until a group of people practicing more advanced magic realized that, with a certain amount of effort, magic could be used for transportation, reconstruction, building, self-defense – basically, everything for which machines were built at that time. And they suggested that everyone just used magic instead. Their point was that it didn’t require any money to use – it only required money to master, - and that it wasn’t as dangerous: it didn’t cause fires as often, it didn’t contaminate rivers and earth… well, magic is basically environmentally friendly.’

Sangwon nodded thoughtfully.

‘Sounds like a good idea to me as of now,’ he said quietly.

Hansol huffed.

‘Well, it was at the time. And people liked the initiative, actually. They joined in, they learned more magic, beyond those basic abilities that everyone was taught at school. And they also studied ways of enhancing magic and integrating it into the everyday life. But, just like it always happens, the heavy engineering corporations didn’t enjoy that idea.’

Sangwon shook his head.

‘I see. They wanted money.’

‘Exactly. But the magicians’ initiative was pretty good, so they needed a way to set them up and make people hate them.’

He paused, looking around. Sangwon waited, but Hansol was silent, and he decided to encourage.

‘What did they do?’

Hansol glanced at him.

‘Who?’

‘The corporations,’ Sangwon reminded. ‘How did they set up the magicians?’

Hansol shook his head.

‘Oh. Yeah, the corporations,’ he tapped his thighs, seemingly gathering his thoughts. ‘Well, the country’s authorities sympathized with the corporations. So they conspired and started spreading the news that the magicians wanted to destroy the factories and leave millions of workers unemployed. The magicians _did_ want to eventually get rid of the factories, but in the mainstream news that was showed in the most malicious way imaginable. The workers bought into it, they rioted and demanded the magic was banned altogether. The Prime Minister said that he had to respect the people’s wish, and slowly, little by little, started banning magic. But the thing was, that ban was leaving _magicians_ unemployed, and of course they reacted to that.’

‘Did they start the war?’ Sangwon hemmed.

Hansol shook his head.

‘Wait for it. The magicians’ then-leader realized he was facing a force too big and a system too corrupt to proceed, and he gave up and resigned. He left the country for good. But there was a young woman who saw a chance and took it. She was a good politician – I mean, she _is_ a good politician, and she used all her knowledge to gather the magicians around her. Her name is Bora, and she’s the Magicians’ leader to this day.’

‘What did she do?’

Hansol smiled slightly.

‘People who lived off their magic skills were getting pretty angry by then. People usually separate the world into friends and strangers, and for the magicians the factory workers were strangers. So Bora told them that technology was just a poor rejoice for people with underdeveloped magic abilities. She said that those supporting technological advance were inferior, and in their struggle to match the superior magicians they had brought the world to the verge of a catastrophe. Her main idea was that the Magicians were the upper class, chosen to take down the old world and to build a new one, better and healthier. And she gave them the enemy, and that was the entirety of Technicians. She basically turned them into something like a sect.’

Hansol licked his lips and paused for a few seconds, then continued:

‘Well, Bora was a good politician, and the masses followed her, and the Prime Minister understood that. He held an official meeting with her where he offered her to ally with him and to return to the old way of things. But Bora was idea-driven, and she refused harshly. It was in all the newspapers, and that gave the Prime Minister a complete carte blanche. He suggested that the Magicians were planning a revolution, and that the best defense was to attack. He dropped bombs onto the Magicians’ district in the capital, and a lot of them died that day. The remaining Magicians understood clearly what was going on. All over the country, they attacked the administration buildings, joined by some factory workers. You know, the Prime minister’s actions were way too blatant, and the smarter folks realized what was wrong. Like that began the revolution, and then it turned into a full-blown war.’

He sighed and looked down at his hands.

‘The Technicians stopped using magic on principle. The medicine without magic is poor, so we basically rolled ourselves back into the medieval state. I mean, we still make pretty good prostheses, but that’s pretty much all we can do: substitute people with machine parts, little by little. But we have zeppelins!’ he gave a short, bitter laugh. ‘All the money go for the machinery, and people like you and me barely have anything to eat. On their part, the Magicians swore off the technology completely. Going without technology requires extremely advanced magic sometimes, and very few people have mastered it. So, naturally, those who have are the upper class, and those who haven’t are basically beggars. The stratification is extreme between Magicians, but they keep it covered somehow – to the general public, I mean.’

Sangwon chewed on his lip, frowning slightly.

‘How do you know all this?’

Hansol glanced at him and moved even closer. When he spoke again, his voice was but a whisper:

‘There are spies on both sides. They know there are Magician sympathizers among the Technicians, and vice versa, so they go to pick them up. They risk a lot every time: when they get caught the treatment they receive is totally brutal. The people are instructed to give all the uncovered spies in, but they prefer torturing and beating them to death all by themselves. However, those spies usually live undercover for a little while, and they get a chance to see that the Technicians are the same kind of people as the Magicians. So they often get stripped of all the illusions of their ideology on the way – at once or over time. Whenever I run into a spy, I don’t give them out, but I show them out safely in exchange for information. That’s how I go.’

Sangwon raised his eyebrows. _You aren’t doing bad, I must admit._

‘Who _are_ you, though?’ he asked. ‘Some kind of a cook, right?’

Hansol nodded.

‘Observant. I’m a cook at this humanitarian kitchen. The last one remaining.’

‘There were more?’

Hansol nodded, moving further away from Sangwon.

‘We were sent here to the ghetto for the mayor of the town to show off. They all do that. Took a photo for the local newspapers, bragged and all. And then we were left here and forgotten, the funding dwindled, and all the girls and guys who were cooking and bringing products left, except for me. Most joined the Magicians – they give better money, you know.’

Sangwon sighed.

‘So you stayed for...’ he hesitated to say ‘ _us_ ’, ‘for these youths?’

Hansol shrugged.

‘About right. Stayed to feed them. They’re orphans, or lost kids, or runaways. Somebody gotta keep them all alive.’

Sangwon swallowed a lump in his throat and looked down. He didn’t need to think about that now. He had more important stuff to ask.

‘Do you happen to know any one of the guys? I mean of the group.’

Hansol smiled, but that smile faded quickly.

‘I do,’ he said. ‘Actually I know them a little too well for my own liking. Sehyukie is the Technicians’ leader in this town, and the mayor. Mayor Park. And Hojoonie is the Magicians’ leader. They fight rigorously against each other, certain that they’re doing the right thing, but they’re just small parts of a mechanism, doomed to be disappointed.’

Sangwon felt the gears turning in his head, his mind analyzing what he had just heard and trying to put it neatly into his theory. So far everything worked to prove it, so Sangwon called it a rule by now. Each universe reflected life: in a distorted way, but meant to bring up something important. What was being brought up here had been bothering him for some time already.

Hansol straightened sharply and pricked up. Sangwon looked at him and listened intently, but couldn’t hear anything but vague hum. Hansol jumped to his feel and called:

‘Nito! Nito, I said let go of him! Nito, I’m coming for you!’

And at that moment Sangwon heard it too, breaking through the hum and chatter – no, not hum and chatter, excited encouraging. Hansol stormed out of the room, and Sangwon couldn’t help but jump up and follow him.

In the corridor, it was dark, but, after the dimly lit rooms, Sangwon’s eyes could see things with what little light was pouring in from the outside. More importantly, he could hear – could hear the ugly sounds of kicks falling, and of short, pained pants, the kind that one exhales when they’re hit in the chest. Someone was writhing on the ground, not even struggling to get up, just covering their face and trying to protect themself as much as they could. The fight scene flashed in front of Sangwon’s eyes – his fight with Byungjoo from the very first universe, and all the fights he had ever gotten into. His breath hitched in his throat, and he stopped halfway, freezing, unable to make a proper inhale.

Hansol didn’t hesitate. He rushed right into the midst – and the abusers scattered immediately, fleeing. Hansol knelt down beside the kid on the ground, and cooed over them:

‘Get up! Oh God, get up, please! Can you? Can you?..’

The kid slowly unravelled their arms covering their face, and tumbled to stand on their hands and knees. By the time they sat up, their back to Sangwon, there was no one in the corridor, except for the three of them.

‘Can you stand up?..’

The kid nodded heavily, clasping at their ribcage. Sangwon could guess it was a boy – a bony boy in baggy clothes, looking like he was barely holding together. He turned his face slightly at Hansol, and Sangwon recognized him.

‘Byungjoo!’

He rushed to him and fell to his knees beside him. Byungjoo turned sharply, a little too sharply for his comfort, and coughed wheezingly, as if he was about to throw up all of his insides. He looked into Sangwon’s eyes sickly and frightenedly. Sangwon bit onto his lower lip.

‘Byungjoo...’

Byungjoo blinked a few times, and then, without a word, opened his arms and fell into Hansol and Sangwon. There were a few seconds of awkward silence.

‘Come on, we need to get you out of here,’ Hansol called softly, at last. ‘Come on.’

* * *

 

The kitchen had already cleared. Byungjoo could barely walk, so Sangwon helped Hansol drag him inside and sit him down. That was quite a challenge: Byungjoo was heavy-boned and sharp-angled, and his elbows and wrists dug into Sangwon’s shoulders. As he was lowered down to the ground, he pulled his knees up to his chin and sighed heavily, still not saying a word. Hansol stroked his hair and stood up.

‘I need to talk to those bastards,’ he said, quietly and furiously. ‘This is not the first time.’

Sangwon caught him by the trousers.

‘Hansolie, sit down,’ he asked softly. ‘This is not for real, this universe will be gone by the evening of the day.’

Hansol huffed stubbornly.

‘I can’t leave this be,’ he said, looking down at Sangwon. ‘You two stay here, I won’t be long.’

And he freed his trouser leg from Sangwon’s fingers – he wasn’t holding tight, - and left the room in quick, wide steps.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Sangwon put his arm around silent Byungjoo and leaned into him softly.

‘Hey,’ he called. ‘I’m glad to see you.’

Byungjoo nodded and dropped his head into the crook of his neck. His shirt, too wide for him, fell off his shoulder, revealing the thin, heavily bruised body underneath. Sangwon didn’t need any explanation to understand that he barely had energy even to breathe. He peeked through the opened collar underneath his shirt, into the bloody mess. Somehow he knew it wasn’t Byungjoo’s first beating. And he knew that, more than any one else could, Byungjoo beat himself.

Sangwon knew way too well how madly Byungjoo hated himself. He knew it from every display of his false confidence, from every time he got way too defensive over little stuff, from every uncontrolled outburst of rage, - he knew. Byungjoo's jokes about hating his life and hating himself weren’t entirely jokes. Sangwon knew better than anyone, and Byungjoo didn’t even need to explain anything to him. But Sangwon was still used to seeing Byungjoo fight and flounder on, so the way he had him now was surprising. There was no life in Byungjoo’s tiny body, only enormous weight of leaden pain. He didn’t fight, he didn’t scream – and something told Sangwon that he was only just now witnessing the inner Byungjoo, through the course of the universes stripped of all his confidence and strength, of all arrogance, of all protest – of all there was to him. All that was left was lifeless weight.

His heart stung. He felt the urge to apologize to Byungjoo for everything he had ever said to him, for everything he had ever accused him of, for every blow he delivered. The words stuck in his throat, crumpled and heavy, and Sangwon felt his eyes well up with unbidden tears. Byungjoo was a friend – an actual friend, who always listened to him and never told anybody. Sangwon knew he didn’t appreciate him enough. And he was ashamed of himself.

‘Byungjoo...’ he called again, softly. ‘We will be alright, you know? You will be alright.’

Byungjoo didn’t reply, but by the huff he gave Sangwon guessed that he cracked a little bitter smirk.

‘I mean, you will,’ he said, confident for some reason. ‘You trust me?’

Byungjoo sighed.

‘It doesn’t really depend on me,’ he said quietly, wearily. ‘If… if Sehyuk…’ he paused, then tried again: ‘If Sangdo...’ he paused again, giving out a little frustrated huff. ‘If others don’t stop making everything about themselves, I won’t be okay,’ he finished at last.

 _What about Sangdo? -_ Sangwon wanted to ask, but at that moment Hansol walked in, his brows still furrowed, and closed the door.

‘I hate these people,’ he said, heartily, as he sat down in front of Sangwon and Byungjoo. ‘I don’t say these words easily, but I do actually hate them.’

‘What’s biting them?’ Sangwon asked, frowning. ‘What did he do?’

‘He did _nothing,_ ’ Hansol cut off hotly. ‘He was just careless enough _once_ to mention that he had a dream. And his dream just so happened to be a dream of becoming a magician.’

Sangwon shook his head.

‘Oh, for goodness sake...’

‘See, that’s what I told you about! Byungjoo, look at me, hm?’

Hansol’s loud outpourings were interrupted as Byungjoo fidgeted in Sangwon’s arms. Hansol leaned in closer, and took him by the shoulders, softly unravelling him to peek into his face.

‘Hey...’

Something in his eyes was especially tender, and Sangwon thanked all the powers that be that he didn’t end up apologizing to Byungjoo. His heart stung, and he released Byungjoo’s shoulders, to let him lean back onto the wall and close his eyes. Hansol put his hands onto his lap and watched Byungjoo with a pained expression.

‘He’s going through a lot of shit here,’ he said, quietly.

Sangwon nodded. _You can’t but admit._

‘Yeah, that’s all good,’ he said aloud, ‘but you gotta tell me where I should go. I can’t stay here and just wait for all the others to appear.’

‘You actually can,’ Byungjoo dropped wearily. ‘You just don’t want to.’

‘This universe is different, though,’ Sangwon protested. ‘You had a job in yours; and in mine, it’s Sunday today, so I can basically go wherever.’

‘You should probably go see Sehyukie first,’ Hansol said thoughtfully. ‘That’s actually the only way I see from here as of now.’

Sangwon nodded.

‘Yeah, I guess. But look, are you two gonna stay here?’

Hansol shrugged, glancing at Byungjoo.

‘We probably have to?’

‘I’ll be fine in a bit,’ Byungjoo reassured, opening his eyes and looking sickly up at Sangwon. ‘You’re actually very right asking this. We will need to gather together somehow, and we don’t need to get scattered around town.’

Sangwon chewed on his lip. Being completely honest, he would prefer going alone, or with Hansol, but leaving even one person behind was potentially dangerous. Sangwon was into steampunk, and he knew how unstable those universes were. They sure didn’t want to get scattered around.

‘Maybe someone of the guys could help us with that?..’ he suggested. ‘We still don’t know anyone else, except for Hojoon and Sehyuk, do we?’

Hansol shook his head.

‘I heard of none more. Byungjoo?’

Byungjoo sighed and closed his eyes again.

‘No, not really.’

There was a little silence. Suddenly, Hansol straightened and frowned, listening intently to something. Sangwon shot him a glance.

‘What’s wrong?’

Hansol waved his hand sharply, silencing him. Sangwon listened, but heard nothing.

‘Hansolie, what’s wrong?’ he called again, louder.

Hansol didn’t look in his direction. He changed in the face and slapped his hips in exasperation.

‘Can’t they spend five minutes without fighting?!’ he exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

‘How in the world can you hear them from here?’ Sangwon asked, rising after him.

Hansol raised his hand preventively, finally turning to Sangwon.

‘Stay here,’ he said firmly. ‘Stay here with Byungjoo, I’ll be right back.’

With this, he turned and stormed out, leaving Sangwon and Byungjoo alone.

Sangwon sat back down slowly, moving further away from Byungjoo. Byungjoo’s eyes were closed, but he smiled slightly as Sangwon adjusted to sit half a metre away from him.

‘Oh, Sangwonie,’ he said, quietly. ‘I wonder how this universe will go.’

Sangwon turned his head to him and looked into his face intently. Byungjoo opened his eyes slowly and looked into his eyes.

‘I’m not your rival,’ he said, seriously.

Sangwon huffed. He didn’t like Byungjoo starting _the_ topic again.

‘I know,’ he dropped. ‘We have more important things to think about.’

Byungjoo shrugged.

‘We probably do. Except you know… I think that everyone of us needs to make peace with himself. Until we do, we’ll be wandering the universes pointlessly, bickering and arguing and hating ourselves and each other.’

Sangwon rolled his eyes. He hated that. Everyone in the company felt the need to teach him something, mostly just repeating what he already knew. Sangwon knew for a given that he was smarter than at least some of the guys, and although he never thought less about them for that, he preferred not being bossed around. To be fair, he hated being given life lessons even from those whom he respected as better than him. Sangwon preferred figuring everything out for himself, and unwanted advice just drove him to the edge with annoyance.

Byungjoo caught his expression and nodded, looking away.

‘You think I’m teaching you, huh,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, I know how it sounds. But no, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t think that because of you. It’s actually all about me.’

‘Then don’t be projecting your problems on myself,’ Sangwon snapped and turned away, angry at Byungjoo and himself equally.

Byungjoo _was_ right, he had to admit, and it aligned with Sangwon’s own concept all too well – he found himself suddenly furious for not thinking about it before. The universes reflecting their doubts, problems and pains forced them to face what was wrong, giving them an opportunity to solve it, even if in a metaphorical way and in a surreal surrounding. _How many opportunities have we blown so far?.._

‘What do you think I have to do?’ he said, quietly, not looking at Byungjoo and trying his best to sound indifferent.

‘You know exactly what I think is best,’ Byungjoo replied.

At that moment, they were overwhelmed with a storm of sounds as the door opened, and Hansol stumbled in, pushing someone else in front of himself.

‘Back the fuck off!’ he shouted at the direction of the door. ‘ _I_ am gonna be talking to him, you understand?’

And a wave of screamed objections. Sangwon glanced at the man on the ground, as he stumbled to get his lanky body to stand straight. A moment before he was dressed in rags, quite similar to Sangwon’s own, but those were quickly dissolving into thin air in tattered patches, revealing black and blue underneath. For a split second more the man was clean and polished. Hansol looked back at him furiously and shoved him hard, making him fall back to the ground, into the dust. Then, he turned around, grabbed the door, and slammed it shut with some inhuman effort, locked it and pressed his back against it. A few kicks and blows fell from the other side just as he did so.

‘What happened?’ Sangwon muttered in amazement.

‘A spy got a wrong person,’ Hansol explained quietly, just to be interrupted by another sound of something hitting the door.

Sangwon glanced to the man on the ground. His unfamiliar face was weirdly distorted, crumpling and rippling in a way human faces usually didn’t. It looked like it was rubber. The man curled up on his side, grasping himself.

‘So… he’s a magician?..’

Sangwon rose and took a step forward to look at the man more closely. Hansol left the door be – the hits falling on it were much less violent now, - and came up to the man to crouch down on his other side.

‘Hey,’ he called, putting his hand on the man’s back. ‘We won’t hurt you. I promise.’

The man only grasped himself tighter. His face rippled one last time and stopped, leaving only a pained expression. Sangwon looked into the man’s face and raised his eyebrows.

‘Yooncheol?’

It was him, and Sangwon recognized him despite the swollen eye and the dislocated nose. Yooncheol slowly released one arm to rise on it, and looked up at Sangwon. His lips bloodied at once, and he coughed and spat to the ground. His arm gave, and he dropped heavily back into the dust. Sangwon’s heart fell down.

‘Yooncheol!’

Hansol grabbed Yooncheol’s shoulder and turned him so that he would be lying on his back. Yooncheol tucked his arms and legs in, like a beetle, and wheezed out a heavy breath. Sangwon crouched down beside him and tapped his cheek.

‘Look at me,’ he said softly. ‘Hey, look at me, Yooncheol!’

Yooncheol opened his healthy eye with a visible effort, and gave Sangwon a deadbeat stare from under his heavy eyebrows.

‘It’s us, Yooncheol,’ Sangwon called. ‘We won’t hurt you.’

Yooncheol gave out a long breath and closed his eye again. His heavy breathing sounded more like heaving.

‘They fucked him up,’ Hansol muttered. ‘I’m scared.’

‘Don’t… be…’ Yooncheol managed, opening his eye to look at Hansol. ‘I… can fix… myself...’

Hansol covered his mouth with his hand with a little pained gasp. Sangwon glimpsed his eyes, welling with tears.

‘You need any help with that?’ he asked, looking back down at Yooncheol.

Yooncheol shook his head, wincing slightly.

‘N-no.’

He put his left hand on his right arm and took a deep breath, as if he was about to dive into cold water. His fingers glowed blue, and something cracked softly. Yooncheol whimpered. His desperate gaze darted from Sangwon to Hansol.

‘Leave me alone for a little while. Please…’

Hansol nodded, backing off from his glowing hand and rising quickly.

‘Sangwonie?’

Sangwon sighed.

‘Fine.’

He stood up and walked off to plop down beside Byungjoo, never taking his gaze off Yooncheol. Hansol lowered down between him and Byungjoo and nudged him with his elbow.

‘Don’t look.’

Sangwon nodded absently.

‘This is actually pretty convenient,’ he said thoughtfully.

‘Huh?’

Sangwon glanced at Hansol before turning back to stare at Yooncheol again. Yooncheol bit onto his lower lip, and just gave out tiny sobs. Blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth.

‘Yooncheol appeared just on time,’ Sangwon explained, shrugging. ‘You’re saying he’s a spy, right? A magician spy.’

‘Yes,’ Hansol replied from his side, his intonation unclear.

‘So he can take us all with him, as draftees. I mean, that will look natural to the Magicians, right?’

‘Draftees?’

Yooncheol put his both hands onto his chest and gave out a choking sound, silenced immediately by the crack of bones. He was fixing his broken ribs, Sangwon figured, and Yooncheol’s pain echoed in his own chest, making his toes curl.

He glanced away and nodded.

‘Yeah. Or, like, whatever they’re called. To make it like we want to be Magicians.’

‘No, I understand.’

Sangwon looked up at Yooncheol again. Yooncheol sat up slowly and tried his feet, turning them around, pressing them into the ground, stomping them slightly. He seemed satisfied with their response. His hands reached for his face, touching his nose and his closed eye, - and jerked away. Yooncheol hissed quietly. His fingers glowed blue once again.

‘He’ll probably be able to fix Byungjoo, too,’ Hansol said quietly, thoughtfully.

‘He most definitely will,’ Sangwon nodded. ‘He’s pretty good, watch him.’

With a crack, Yooncheol’s nose moved on its place, and Yooncheol grabbed his face with his hands, hunching over in pain. Sangwon couldn’t but mirror his expression.

‘Oh, poor man. Hansol, your kids are savage.’

‘I hate them,’ Hansol replied grimly.

Yooncheol rose to his feet and dusted off his clothes. Now that he was standing up, he looked much more presentable. He was clad in a long double-breasted coat, hugging his thin frame tightly, and soft tight trousers, tucked about the knee into high leather boots. A black leather belt with pockets was set on Yooncheol’s hips, and another one passed under his arms and over his shoulders.

‘You look cool,’ Byungjoo made his presence known.

Yooncheol glanced at him and smiled faintly.

‘It’s just the costume.’

‘Can you help him?’ Sangwon interrupted impatiently.

‘Whom? Byungjoo?’

Sangwon nodded. Yooncheol walked slowly towards them, and crouched down in front of Byungjoo.

‘I probably can,’ he shrugged. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘They beat him, too,’ Hansol called, leaning back on his arm to see Yooncheol better.

Yooncheol huffed, tracing his hands along Byungjoo’s arms, not touching him. His fingers were glowing a beautiful blue once again.

‘Savage…’

‘Check his stomach,’ Sangwon dropped, watching Yooncheol intently. ‘Stomach and chest.’

Byungjoo dropped his arms on both sides of his body, letting Yooncheol examine him patiently.

‘It prickles,’ he remarked, leaning back.

Yooncheol nodded.

‘I know. It has to.’

He traced his hands up and down, and shook his head.

‘Oh wow. There’s a lot going on under there.’

Sangwon noticed Byungjoo straining slightly at Yooncheol’s words. Yooncheol sighed.

‘Okay, this now will hurt, but we need you to feel fine and survive this day. You can scream.’

Byungjoo nodded. Hansol shuffled quickly to his feet, crouched behind Yooncheol and covered his ears with his hands. Yooncheol glanced around his shoulder and gave him a smile.

‘Okay, thanks,’ he said. ‘Guess I could use that. Byungjoo, you ready?’

Byungjoo nodded. Yooncheol pressed his palms to his chest and stroked slowly along the ribs. There was a disgusting cracking sound, and Byungjoo yelped. Hansol winced and pressed his palms tighter into Yooncheol’s ears. Yooncheol continued tracing Byungjoo’s ribs, then moved slowly down to his stomach. Byungjoo gave another cry, quickly reducing into a moan. Yooncheol shook his head – he looked concerned.

‘Oh come on.’

Someone knocked on the door violently.

‘Hansol! Hansol, do you need help?!’

Hansol huffed. He leaned back from Yooncheol, turned to the door, and shouted:

‘No! Go away!’

‘If you need help, you just say so!’

‘I said go away!!!’

There was another blow on the door, and then silence. Yooncheol seemingly hadn’t noticed anything. He pressed his palms into Byungjoo’s stomach harder, drawing a howl out of him. Sangwon couldn’t stand to look at that any longer – both because of how he could almost feel his own bones move under his skin, and because Hansol pressed into Yooncheol’s back tightly and closed his eyes with the most serious expression. He rose and walked off to the dirty window on the opposite wall. Through it he could see a little of a muddy backstreet, and a few figures moving. He tried to focus on the sight to block out the ugly sounds from behind his back.

But he couldn’t help the vision. He couldn’t help but see Hansol, grasping Yooncheol from behind, - and he caught himself hating Yooncheol, and he cursed himself. It wasn’t Yooncheol that he had to save Hansol from. Yooncheol wasn’t dangerous. He only wanted the best for everyone – and a little of it for himself, of course. Besides, what could Hansol possibly want with a man like Yooncheol?..

‘Sangwon, it’s over,’ Yooncheol’s voice called from behind his back.

Sangwon turned slowly away from the window and looked – at Byungjoo, hissing and feeling his body up and down, but looking much more alive; at Hansol, who had left Yooncheol’s back and shuffled to check on Byungjoo; and at Yooncheol himself, still crouching down, but straightened a little, looking at him. He nodded.

‘Fine, alright. So now we are all fine and we can walk. That’s good. What’s our plan?’

‘I thought you already figured out the plan?’

Hansol glanced at Sangwon, sitting down onto the floor. Sangwon sighed and came to sit down beside him. He could feel Hansol’s warmth, and it gave him a little more confidence. Everybody was looking at him now, and he felt big and important. He smiled slightly.

‘Yooncheol, you heard what I was saying?’

Yooncheol shook his head.

‘I was thinking that maybe you could take us with you as draftees. Like, you know? To the Magicians’ camp.’

‘Side,’ Hansol corrected quietly.

‘Huh?’

‘To the Magicians’ side.’

Sangwon nodded.

‘Yeah, alright. So you probably could, am I right?’

Yooncheol swung right to left slightly, his expression thoughtful.

‘Well, you know, I probably could,’ he said slowly. ‘I mean, it _will_ be a bit strange, that there’s so many of you, when usually it’s luck if I bring one person.’

‘Well, different stuff can happen,’ Byungjoo shrugged. ‘It doesn’t have to be bad all the time.’

Yooncheol nodded.

‘Yeah, pretty much so.’

‘I mean, we can’t afford to split,’ Sangwon remarked. ‘We don’t want to lose each other in this town, when there’s war going on and the two foes are in such close proximity.’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘All true, all true.’

‘You still seem doubtful,’ Hansol said, peeking into his face.

Yooncheol chewed on his lip.

‘Well, I pretty much see how it will go,’ he said. ‘While we’re on your side, I’ll shapeshift again, so that no one is suspicious. Somewhere around the neutral stripe, I’ll shapeshift back, so that on the Magicians’ side you are safe with me. Actually, the neutral stripe is what upsets me the most. We could run into a lot of people we don’t wanna run into.’

‘You never told me about the neutral stripe,’ Sangwon turned to Hansol, inclining his head to the side.

Hansol shrugged.

‘Well, it’s only logical,’ Byungjoo said, instead of him. ‘As you said, the foes are in the closest proximity, so they need a buffer between them. There is a neutral stripe, and, officially, no one can attack in that area. However, both sides have small squads patrolling the stripe. If they see spies with their draftees, they make sure they don’t get to the other side. It’s basically like a minefield.’

Sangwon licked his lips. The pretty picture he had drawn in his head crumbled, and he felt suddenly annoyed. _Dumb idiot. How could I not think about a buffer?!_

As if sensing his thoughts, Hansol patted his back.

‘Look, it’s alright,’ he said encouragingly. ‘This would be dangerous anyway, but, I mean, at least we are together.’

Sangwon nodded and sighed.

‘God knows for how long.’

‘We should and will try our best to stay together,’ Yooncheol said, firmly. ‘Look, I am a magician, and my weapon is always on me. I can do a lot to protect you all and to fight back anyone who will attack us. I’ve been trained for that.’

‘Do you shoot stuff out of your hands, like an Avatar?’ Sangwon smirked.

Yooncheol reached over his shoulder and behind his back, pulled up – and showed off a beautifully carved staff with a pointy end.

Byungjoo squinted and inclined his head to the side. Hansol frowned. Sangwon raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh, so like in Dark Souls?’

Yooncheol pulled a face.

‘I don’t know. This is a catalyst. This stuff channels magic so I can attack.’

‘Yeah, like in Dark Souls.’

Yooncheol rolled his eyes, reached up again and pushed the staff back into what Sangwon had guessed was a scabbard on his back.

‘I got it, you guys are smart,’ Hansol said, rising. ‘Anyway, we can’t go through that door. Lucky we are that there’s another door from this kitchen, and we will be able to leave through that.’

‘The door to the storage?’ Sangwon asked quickly.

Hansol smirked bitterly.

‘Yeah, sort of. It’s full, you know. Full of sweet nothing.’

Sangwon sighed.

‘You can’t ask for too much during the war,’ he remarked darkly.

‘Yeah, when there are much more important things to spend money on, like zeppelins,’ Hansol said caustically.

‘Exactly what I meant,’ Sangwon replied, standing up and offering Byungjoo a helping hand, which he accepted. ‘Are we gonna take anything?’

Hansol shrugged.

‘I have a pistol, and that’s all I have, if it matters. But I don’t wanna use it, you know, even if I have to.’

‘Give it to me,’ Byungjoo suggested.

Hansol reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a small key on a black lace. He took it off and walked off to the darker corner of the room, where brooms and shovels were standing. He pushed them down and they fell loudly. Yooncheol flinched.

‘Don’t do that.’

‘Fine,’ Hansol replied, shoving the key seemingly right into the wall. As he turned it, something clicked, and the wall seemingly caved in as the door creaked open to the inside of the still invisible side room. ‘Let’s go,’ Hansol invited, pushed the door open, and went in. Sangwon hurried to follow.

The storage was darkened, and the light from the kitchen wasn’t quite enough to see anything properly. Sangwon blinked, trying to get accustomed to the dark, but at that moment, white light shone behind him. He turned – just to see, as he expected, Yooncheol, holding his hand out. There was a little ball of white light hovering over his palm.

‘Be careful with that,’ Byungjoo reminded, shuddering.

Yooncheol nodded and moved his shoulders slightly. His sleek dark clothes went bleak and tattered, the leather belts around his hips and shoulders turned into ropes, and his luxurious dark hair, if slightly dishevelled, became greasy and felted. He lost all his majestic look at once. Now he looked like a lanky kid, hungry and dirty – and Sangwon got a weird feeling that this transformation meant something more than just a spy’s disguise.

Hansol took a few steps back, and closed the door of the storage. The darkness enveloped them. Yooncheol moved his hand slightly, and the white light became brighter.

‘Thanks, Yooncheolie,’ Hansol smiled, locking the door. ‘Let me just find the back door key.’

He put the black lace back around his neck, hiding the key insid his shirt, and got down to searching the walls. Yooncheol turned after him, holding his hand out to give more light.

‘What about the pistol?’ Byungjoo asked.

‘Yooncheolie will protect us just fine, should the necessity arise,’ Hansol dropped, busily.

Finally, he found what he was looking for, and Sangwon heard clanging of metal.

‘Yooncheolie, turn off the light,’ Hansol warned.

The key clicked in the lock, and in a moment the light was gone, - for a few long seconds, until the door opened, letting in the dim light from the backstreet, along with the ugly smell. Sangwon buried his nose in the crook of his elbow, trying to breathe, but the stench found its way into his nostrils, and there was no way to escape it.

Hansol stepped out and invited the others with a gesture.

* * *

 

The backstreet was empty now. Grey mud slurped under the guys’ boots as they walked. Nobody cared to look out of the dirty windows, the noise didn’t attract anyone, so they passed calmly, quietly, not talking to each other. Hansol and Yooncheol led the way, and Sangwon couldn’t help but stare at Yooncheol’s narrow back, clothes hanging down from his shoulders, like from a rack.

Something was odd about the transformation, and how Yooncheol’s shoulders hunched habitually once he was dressed in rags. The tight-fitting dark suit fit him much more nicely, and Yooncheol looked much better in it – more _natural._ No one of them looked as alien in rags as Yooncheol did – and not just because of the proportions of his body. Sangwon tried to grasp what was so odd to him, but he had a hard time doing so, and his thoughts wandered.

He thought about how, weirdly, each one of the three of them was tied to the fourth. His, Byungjoo’s, and Yooncheol’s lives were tied to Hansol’s, each by his own sentiment.

His own feelings Sangwon had long ago confessed to himself. He loved Hansol with everything in him. He loved him no matter how different they were, and how different that love was from what he had expected it to be. He had no problem with his feelings and with himself.

Byungjoo had told him he was long over his own passion, but Sangwon wasn’t ready to believe him completely. Some days, he accepted it as true, but some other days he couldn’t help but squint as he looked at Byungjoo. Hansol was magnetic just by being himself, and it was extremely difficult to resist that magnetism. Sangwon didn’t quite believe that Byungjoo fought his attraction back at will, and even less did he believe that Hansol did something bad enough for Byungjoo to stop loving him, yet not bad enough to break their friendship. Sangwon was guessing Byungjoo’s passion was still alive, he could sense it. But Byungjoo didn’t seem willing to act on it, and that left Sangwon baffled. He knew Byungjoo didn’t have a problem with being one of _those fags, -_ something that he tried not to think of much. And the more he tried to come up with an explanation of Byungjoo’s behaviour, the more times he ended up looking at one and the same person.

Yooncheol was the weirdest one to him. Byungjoo seemed to always try to draw Sangwon’s attention to him, and Sangwon knew what he thought. He didn’t know if he thought the same thing. Yooncheol was the only one out of eight people in the group who didn’t seem to gladly accept Hansol’s touchiness, - and the only one to whom Hansol _actually_ clung. By _clinging_ Sangwon meant the connection. Hansol and Yooncheol seemed to understand each other without words, they could exchange glances and instantly come to an agreement. Hansol didn’t even have that kind of connection with mother man Sangdo, although they were both driven by their hearts; if anyone, Sangwon would expect Hansol to cling to Sangdo. But Yooncheol, whose feelings were always deep inside him, too complicated for him to properly express; Yooncheol, who always seemed kind of alienated by his own happiness; Yooncheol, who looked uncomfortable with himself much more than he was with others – this guy didn’t seem like the kind to draw Hansol’s interest. Nevertheless, Hansol clung to him, and Byungjoo, from what Sangwon had collected, was convinced that Hansol was in love with him. And even though the speculations pointed at something of that sort, Sangwon was used to relying on logic, and his logic just screamed wrong. Yes, Yooncheol was all over the place whenever Hansol was in trouble. Yes, he was willing to help and support Hansol in any way he could. Yes, he always tried to cheer Hansol up and express nothing but genuine sweetness towards him. But to imagine that Hansol could reciprocate the feeling?..

_What if I’m just in denial?_

That thought had occurred to Sangwon, more than once. He was okay with that, he was used to checking and re-checking his facts. However, both Hansol and Yooncheol were secretive about their personal lives, and facts were hard to retrieve, so Sangwon decided to rely on logic until any further proof or disproof.

What made him even more confused, though, was how Hansol treated _him_. For that, he couldn’t even invent a word, so much the treatment differed depending on the day. Some days, Hansol was tender and caring. He was all around Sangwon, asking how he was, bringing him whatever he needed. Other days, however, he was cold and distant, barely even noticing Sangwon or anyone else at all. And yet other days, everyone seemed to exist for him, except for Sangwon, and that baffled him the most – and frustrated him even more.

There had been multiple occurrences where Sangwon could have asked him, straight and plain. There had been numerous opportunities, and every time Sangwon decided it was better not to. Every time he blew it, and every time he hated himself afterwards. He feared rejection, he feared disappointment, and it made him angrier than anything ever. His own weakness filled him with pointless fury, when he wanted to lock himself up and just destroy any inanimate object in sight with his bare hands. It was those times that he borrowed Byungjoo’s punching bag – he hardly ever used it anyway, - put it in the corner of his own studio, and mindlessly tackled it.

He was surprised each time his anger subsided that the bag survived. However, it always stood strong. It was a good bag, expensive, and Sangwon always wondered why Byungjoo even wasted so much money if he almost never used it. _He probably wanted us all to think he is actually working on his anger issues._ Sangwon remembered the day after which the punching bag had appeared in the dorm, and he remembered everything that had preceded it. He always assumed Sehyuk had tried to talk some sense into Byungjoo back in the toilets. He wondered how much common sense Sehyuk himself had to offer, but somehow, whatever he had said worked. Sangwon remembered Byungjoo’s apologies, grunted out but sincere, and that punching bag that nobody really questioned. Now and then, that punching bag became Sangwon’s own salvation.

It was when he was working up that long-suffering bag one day that Sanggyun had walked in on him – and stayed, eyes square, watching him silently. Sangwon remembered getting scared Sanggyun would say something. Sanggyun hardly ever refrained from commentary, and Sangwon was so furious then that any unbidden word could push him over the edge. But Sanggyun seemingly understood what was going on. He sat right on the floor of the studio and quickly disappeared from the periphery of Sangwon’s vision. And, strangely, with his silent, awing presence, Sangwon’s fury subsided quicker than he had known.

Sangwon never considered Sanggyun a healing presence. There were people who brought peace with them everywhere they walked – Sangdo was one of those people; but Sanggyun was far from that. He gave an image of a careless brat, and most were satisfied with that layer of him, but Sangwon knew better. He saw him through: nervous, tender, - and much smarter than he seemed. Sangwon liked Sanggyun. Sanggyun understood him, like Hojoon would, - but he wasn’t half as serious, and that made him a much nicer companion. Sanggyun was a lot like Byungjoo, but he wasn’t quite as fond of sharing his bitter experience, and Sangwon appreciated that as well. Of all the guys in the group, Sangwon felt the best with Sanggyun. Even with Hansol, there wasn’t anything like that warm comfort of being understood and accepted. Hansol was much more distant, and although Sangwon’s thoughts were full of him, although he thought Hansol to be understanding and accepting – like most people who were struggling like Hansol did, - despite all that, Sangwon felt the best with Sanggyun.

He wondered quietly at how he had almost forgotten about him through the course of the universes, and felt guilty.

‘Hey.’

Sangwon looked up to meet Yooncheol’s sheepish smile.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, calmly, looking in front of himself again.

‘You seem a little sad,’ Yooncheol said softly. ‘Or are you just tired?’

Sangwon sighed.

‘Guess I’m hungry,’ he half-confessed, looking up at Yooncheol to make himself more believable. Yooncheol huffed and nodded.

‘Yeah, I trust. Am, too.’

‘I thought wizards would feed you nice.’

Yooncheol gave a short laugh.

‘Oh, I haven’t seen the _wizards_ for some time now. When you’re a spy you have to be believable. Spend some time around the opposing party, get to know them, get used to them...’ he shrugged. ‘Besides, it’s not like it’s any different on the other side. These poor quarters and ghettos, I mean.’

Sangwon glanced up at him.

‘Huh?’

Yooncheol nodded.

‘Yeah. You wanna know their trick?’

‘Tell me.’

‘They keep the beggars indoors, in huge nice-looking buildings,’ Yooncheol explained. ‘So basically they’re those same quarters, only multi-storey. The poor aren’t allowed outside, except very special occasions.’

Sangwon licked his lips and looked down. So far he had thought the Magicians the better side of the two, but now he doubted.

‘That’s… cruel,’ was the only thing he could come up with.

‘Exactly!’ Yooncheol nodded. ‘I mean, they do everything to keep their facade as a prosperous community where all are equal. The reality, however, is much more… well, realistic.’

Sangwon shook his head thoughtfully.

‘You’re saying “they” like they aren’t your fraction.’

Yooncheol sighed.

‘When you’re a spy for long enough, you kind of don’t feel like belonging to your fraction any more,’ he said, slowly, carefully choosing words. ‘You’re stuck in that weird in-between state, when you don’t belong to either side. You’re more like a detached observer. Unbiased.’

Sangwon glanced up at Yooncheol with much more interest this time.

‘What can you tell me about Sehyuk and Hojoon, as a detached observer?’ he asked, daringly. He didn’t exactly expect Yooncheol to give a proper answer.

Yooncheol chewed on his lip. The line between his bushy eyebrows gave his face a pained look, and something in Sangwon’s chest responded to it with slight nagging.

‘Well, Hojoon is a born leader,’ Yooncheol said thoughtfully. ‘He’s sure that he’s saving the world somehow. He thinks it’s his responsibility, and he thinks he’s good at it. I mean, he _is_ good at guiding people, but I think he’s taking a bit too much upon himself. And Sehyuk is a shit leader,’ he laughed a little and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Yeah, he is. He’s driven by his sense of justice. It’s too acute to do him any good. I don’t know how he is still the leader, you know. He doesn’t have anything for it, except he’s passionate. Misguided and passionate, he is.’

Sangwon bit onto his lower lip and looked up at Yooncheol, dumbfounded. His own thoughts had sounded in the other’s voice, and he wondered. He knew Yooncheol was smart, but he never thought him to be _that_ observant – he tended to think him rather directed inwards.

‘Were you about the real life Sehyuk and Hojoon, or about those in this universe?’ he decided to check, lowering his voice.

Yooncheol turned his head and looked down at him from under his heavy eyelids.

‘Which did you want to hear?’ he asked, and his expression was unreadable.

Sangwon felt something inside him drone, as if his own vibrations were resonating with Yooncheol’s, increasing.

‘Besides,’ Yooncheol said, turning his head slightly, but still looking at Sangwon, ‘aren’t those interchangeable anyway? You thought of it, too, didn’t you.’

That wasn’t a question. Sangwon could only nod. Yooncheol looked away from him and focused on the dirty street below their feet.

‘What… did you think about it?’ Sangwon asked, trying his best to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Yooncheol was silent for a little while.

‘Well, I noticed that not everything in the universes seems random,’ he said finally, slowly. ‘Sure, some things are, but the _major_ stuff, like personalities, insecurities...’ he hesitated, ‘relationships… that stuff actually resonates with reality. It’s scattered carefully, mixed with randomness of the characters and settings, like it’s meant to be there, obvious and obscure enough at the same time. It’s... as if it’s designed masterfully specifically for us. I wonder who could do such a thing, though, why, and how they'd come up with that.’

Sangwon looked down. Yooncheol had recited basically his own theory, but a little more advanced, and he didn’t know if he was glad, or shocked, or both. He could only certainly say that he didn’t expect that sort of thing from _Yooncheol_. He didn’t remember ever mentioning his theory to him, and although them two coming up with it independently was only serving as solid proof of its veracity, Sangwon couldn’t help but wonder at what Yooncheol turned out to be.

His train of thoughts was interrupted with a joyous and relieved voice:

‘Oh, hello! I thought I’d got lost.’

Everyone stopped, and Sangwon stopped, too. He looked up and raised his eyebrows slightly. He realized he had almost forgotten the rules of the game, and the familiar face in front of them came as a surprise.

It was Sanggyun.

Sanggyun didn’t look like he belonged in the dirty backstreet at all. He was dressed in shiny brown and crisp white, too cleanly to be practical. He was wearing a formal three-piece, but his trousers were tucked into high heavy boots, - Sangwon realized it was literally impossible to get around in any other footwear. A leather belt with pockets, much like the one Yooncheol had, but sturdier, was fixed around his hips, shining metal rivets. His head was bare, and his black hair was sleeked back, revealing his high forehead. But what drew Sangwon’s attention the most was his hands, peeking out of his sleeves. His right, wiry and very _Sanggyun’s,_ boasted a huge signet ring on his middle finger; and his left, clutching a paper in a finger and a thumb, was made out of yellow metal and clearly entirely mechanic.

‘Depends on where you wanted to get,’ Hansol said, looking at Sanggyun with a smile.

Sanggyun cocked his head to the side.

‘Oh, aren’t you Hansol? The last cook remaining in this district?’

Hansol nodded.

‘I am.’

Sanggyun smiled widely.

‘Oh, good. I heard of your savage kids. In fact, it’s them I need, or at least I think so. Do you happen to have a…’ he glanced to the paper in his hand, squinting slightly, ‘Sang… Sangwon Seo?’

Sangwon smiled slightly, stepping forward.

‘I am Sangwon Seo,’ he said calmly. ‘What do you need me for?’

Sanggyun’s stare travelled from Hansol to Sangwon, examining him carefully toe to head, and finally jibbed into his face.

‘Good. I have a notice for you, young man.’

‘What kind?’ Sangwon asked.

Sanggyun squinted slightly, and then his smile quickly dropped, although he tried to keep it – it turned out fake.

‘Oh. Oh, hey.’

‘Hello, Sanggyunie,’ Sangwon greeted, coming closer to him. ‘Look how lucky you are to find us all. Or maybe we’re lucky to meet you here.’

He reached out to hug him, but stopped mid-motion. Sanggyun’s smile widened, looking even more forced. Sangwon frowned.

‘Hey, what’s wrong with you? Are you bringing bad news? What notice do you have?’

He held his hand out, and Sanggyun passed him the paper, immediately looking away. The metal fingers unclenched and eased gracefully, as if they were human, if only giving out a small clang. Sangwon straightened the notice, printed on cheap paper, with a name and signature filled in in handwriting, and looked through it. It was a call-up paper for _Sangwon Seo_ , notifying him that he was wanted at the battle-front, and that he was to head off to the nearest drafting board immediately.

‘What’s there?’ Byungjoo asked from behind his back.

Sangwon sighed.

‘I’m drafted,’ he said. ‘Guess I was bound to be cannon fodder in this universe. Gonna repeat: lucky we are!’

He looked up at Sanggyun and handed him the notice back. Sanggyun snatched it from his hand, folded it in two and shoved into the pocket of his trousers.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Nice to meet you, guys, I’m a drafter, and I came for Sangwon. Basically, I'm not only here to give out the notice, but also to walk the draftee - or draftees - all the way to the board and make sure they stay there.’

‘Looks like there aren’t many to bring around this time,’ Yooncheol made his presence known, his voice smiling.

Sanggyun nodded.

‘Right. You know, most of the boys who still aren’t fighting aren’t technically of age, and it’s illegal to get them official notices, but they usually follow the drafters anyway. This time, Sangwon is the only one I’m allowed to take officially.’

‘He’s only come of age yesterday,’ Byungjoo pointed out. ‘I know he’d be glad to go to war. The Sangwon from here wants to fly a zeppelin, you know!’

Sangwon shot him a reproachful glance, but Byungjoo just beamed back. Sangwon huffed.

‘Anyway, now that this universe is not in fact _real_ , I’m definitely not going to war,’ he snapped, suddenly annoyed. ‘Sanggyunie, I have a better idea. Could you take us all with you and to Sehyukie?’

Sanggyun chewed on his lip.

‘I doubt that,’ he said, slowly. ‘People aren’t usually allowed to see Sehyuk, he’s always busy and the guards are extremely serious...’ He shuddered, quite visibly. ‘And there’s so many of you.’

‘I think we’ll have to split here,’ Yooncheol remarked from behind Sangwon’s back.

Everybody turned to him.

‘Split?’ Hansol frowned. ‘I don’t think we can really afford to split.’

‘Actually, yes, we can,’ Byungjoo shrugged. ‘I mean, I’m feeling alright now. And everyone does.’

‘But how will we find each other again?’ Hansol objected hotly.

‘We should probably just set a place to meet,’ Byungjoo hemmed. ‘Yooncheolie?’

Yooncheol sent him a slight grateful smile.

‘As I said, I think we should split,’ he said, his voice even. ‘What I want to do is for you, Sangwonie, and Sanggyunie, to go to the Technicians’ base and find a way to get to Sehyuk and fetch him. We are on the Technicians’ side now, so you don’t have to go too far. If you’re meant to go to the drafting board, there is probably someone of the group waiting for you there, and hopefully he will help you along. Sehyuk might know some other guys of ours, or at least he should have the means to look for them. Sangwonie is meant to meet everyone of us during the day anyway – well, as I already said. Meanwhile, I will take Byungjoo and Hansolie with me and we’ll wait for you somewhere around the neutral stripe. I know what you think, but it really is better for us to go to the other side. In case we miss anyone, the other Magicians will certainly help us find them, and in case of danger, I will be able to protect you all without risking death from people’s fists. I’m… pretty weak to physical damage,’ he smiled a little, awkwardly. ‘Well, and as soon as we cross the stripe, we’ll hurry to fetch Hojoonie – I mean, he likes to test the newcomers, so he’ll be easy to fetch. And with his help we’ll find the remaining guys on the Magicians’ side, and like that we’ll pass this universe.’

He nodded to himself, as if confirming his own words. Sanggyun huffed.

‘Okay, alright,’ he said, his voice more annoyed that anything else. ‘Good. We see, you are a strategist now. But there is something I gotta tell you,’ he looked around quickly, checking for any onlookers, but the street was empty and no one peeped out of the sparse dirty windows, so he finished: ‘there’s a surprise attack on the Magicians’ base planned out for tonight.’

He lowered his voice, but Sangwon couldn’t help but glance around again. It took him a few seconds to process what he had just heard and to put it neatly into his view of the universe. He almost heard the gears turning in his own head, faster and faster.

‘In this case, we have to be quick,’ he said, with pressure. ‘If Hojoon is easy to fetch, it would be logical to fetch him first. However, if I am meant to go to the drafting board today, I should probably head off there, with Sanggyunie. In that case, Yooncheol’s plan still works.’

He looked up at Yooncheol and met another grateful smile – this time tinier and more desperate. His heart wrung.

‘Moreover, I agree with him on one very important thing,’ he said. ‘If I’m _meant_ to go to the drafting board by the universe’s scenario, there’s _bound_ to be someone there. It’s either going to be Sangdo or Jiho, and I’d be glad to see either, or both.’

‘Is there anyone you wouldn’t be glad to see?’ Sanggyun asked, caustically.

Sangwon squinted at him.

‘Well, you probably noticed I and Sehyuk have had quite a _falling out_.’

He said the last words meaningfully, wanting to emphasize Sehyuk. Sanggyun hemmed and shot a glance at Yooncheol before looking away. Sangwon’s heart skipped a beat. For a second, he thought that Sanggyun _knew_ – and someone like Sanggyun would most certainly get it wrong, he would think him one of _those fags._ Sanggyun nodded to himself.

‘Well, I certainly _did_ notice,’ he said, and something strange sounded in his voice. ‘It was hard not to notice, you know.’

Sangwon swallowed hard. He had to admit he wasn’t really glad to see Yooncheol when he had just appeared, but after his latest confession even Sangwon’s possessiveness gave way. However, Sanggyun was most certainly not in the mood, and it left Sangwon wondering.

‘Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?’ he asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ Sanggyun looked up at him and shrugged slightly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’

‘You’re somehow… especially arrogant today.'

‘When did it bother you?’

Sangwon huffed. He didn’t know how to describe what was off about Sanggyun, but there was definitely _something._

‘I’ll go with you, Sangwon.’

Sangwon turned to Byungjoo. Byungjoo shook his head side to side.

‘Yeah, I’ll go. I wanna help. The more people there are hiding around the neutral stripe, the higher the chances that they’ll get caught. I don’t want to get us caught.’

Sangwon licked his lips. Byungjoo definitely had a point, but he felt like he knew better why he didn’t want to go with Hansol and Yooncheol.

‘Two and three isn’t a big difference,’ Hansol shrugged. ‘Where should we wait, though?’

Yooncheol rubbed his nose with his fingers.

‘There is a pub very close to the neutral stripe. It’s called The Winged Leg – don’t ask, nobody really knows why, - and it has been the spies’ meeting spot since the beginning of the war. We should probably meet up there. Nobody ever suspects anything there.’

‘The Winged Leg?’ Sangwon smirked. ‘Sanggyunie, do you know where that is?’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘Sure do. I didn’t think it was the spies’ meeting spot, though. I used to drink there a lot.’

Yooncheol nodded with a smile.

‘See? That’s what I’m saying. Nobody thinks it serves that purpose. It’s a pretty good place.’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘You have to give it that.’

‘I still want to go with you,’ Byungjoo reminded.

‘Do if you wish,’ Sanggyun dropped. ‘We should probably get going already.’

‘Yes,’ Sangwon nodded. ‘We have to be quick.’

He released a little sigh as they parted. He wanted to try and convince Byungjoo to go with Hansol and Yooncheol, but Byungjoo was stubborn, and there was no time for that. By going with them, Byungjoo robbed Sangwon of a possibility to ask Sanggyun what was wrong with him, - and also left Hansol and Yooncheol going away in two, which Sangwon didn’t feel was a good idea.

* * *

 

They walked the streets in silence. Sanggyun led the way a few steps ahead, marking his strides heavily, like a soldier. Sangwon kept staring at his hand, desperately thinking of how to figure him out. Finally, he decided:

‘Sanggyunie!’

‘Hm?’ Sanggyun dropped, not even turning.

‘Is your hand artificial?’

He asked just to ask something, and he knew perfectly well it was too out-of-the-blue. Sanggyun huffed.

‘That’s actually why I’m here now,’ he said, ‘walking you guys to the drafting board. I am a lieutenant, soon to be senior lieutenant, and the Technicians’ authority values me greatly. I lost my entire arm, as well as my foot, in an explosion, and they sent me here to recover. They made an artificial arm, yes, as well as the foot, and they took some time to tailor to me. Was worth it, though, both work extremely well, and have built-in weapons, too. Very soon, I’m going to be back to the battlefield.’

Sangwon squinted. There wasn’t any sarcasm in Sanggyun’s intonations, - if anything, he sounded too in character, as if he was literally talking about himself.

‘You mean, your character was going to be,’ Sangwon specified, expressively.

Sanggyun gave out a little sigh.

‘Yeah, my character was going to be,’ he repeated, evenly.

Sangwon looked away, unconvinced. The change in Sanggyun bothered him. Sanggyun used to be the most unproblematic of all the guys, and the only one Sangwon could rely on, but that had slipped, leaving Sangwon without solid ground. He looked back at the metal arm, and caught Sanggyun uncurling the fist with a faint mechanic hissing. He bit his lower lip.

Nobody wanted to break the heavy silence, - Sangwon could feel it hanging over their heads. Sanggyun led the way quickly, as if eager to get it over with, but this time Sangwon was sure it was not for their sake. Sanggyun was _silent,_ and that was the most bothersome.

He took a few wide strides forward, leaving Byungjoo lagging behind, and caught up with Sanggyun.

‘Hey, Sanggyunie,’ he called. ‘You mind?’

Sanggyun shrugged slightly, without even turning his head.

‘Nah.’

‘Are you sure you’re alright?’ Sangwon asked, lowering his voice.

Sanggyun shrugged again.

‘Yeah, sure. I’m fine. Why?’

Sangwon huffed. It was difficult to seek out words, so in the end he decided not to seek. With Sanggyun, he could always say his mind as simplistically as he pleased, and be understood.

‘You’re… different,’ he said, quietly. ‘Colder. Is there anything I can help you with?’

Sanggyun turned his head slightly and spared him a glance – his expression was unclear, but not unclear like Yooncheol’s, obscured by his permanently tired features, but in a way that Sangwon couldn’t tell what he was trying to hide, and that scared him.

‘No, there’s nothing to help me with,’ Sanggyun said, and a tiny smile touched his lips, - but it wasn’t a kind smile, but a weary one. ‘I’m alright. Focus on doing your thing, Sangwonie. There’s no need to overthink stuff. You pretty much have this entire game figured out, so why bother? We’ll all be alright.’

Something fateful sounded in his last words, making Sangwon shudder.

‘Alright in what way?’ he asked.

Sanggyun’s smile widened as he looked away.

‘You always ask the right questions, Sangwonie,’ he said, and for a moment Sangwon glimpsed the Sanggyun he was familiar with – just for a moment.

‘In what way?’ he repeated.

‘In every way each one of us wants to be,’ Sanggyun said quietly, and those words were innocent and true, but Sangwon’s heart fell deep down.

He slowed down a little, letting Sanggyun lead again. Sanggyun turned from the street they were walking into a narrow passage, with no windows on the walls bordering it. It was dark and smelly, and it pressed onto Sangwon’s head with leaden weight. He stared at the ground, silent and thoughtful, trying to pull any kind of positive outcome from Sanggyun’s words – and the possibilities were plain, but for some reason all Sangwon could think of was that ‘every way each one of them wanted to be alright’ were separate ways.

The next thing he knew the world took a sharp ninety-degree turn, and the dirty earth arrived right into his face. The force was so mighty his insides seemingly collapsed all at once. He hit his head, and a hot wave through his chest made it hard to breathe, not even letting him gasp. He heard a thud of another body hitting the ground. He scrambled to look up, and he saw Sanggyun’s figure rising up in a halo of familiar blue glow. _Magicians, -_ flashed in his head. The next moment, a masked face replaced his vision, dark blue fabric obscuring everything but eyes, - light-blue, almost white.

* * *

 

The person grabbed Sangwon by the neck and pressed down, holding him on place, making him gag. A hand grabbed his shoulder, and forced him to stand up, - just to shove him into the cold, sticky wall. There were no cries, almost no sounds, except for a few heavy thuds. Through fuzzy blur, Sangwon saw Byungjoo pressed to the opposite wall, and he caught his terrified stare. Then, something big fell from above, and the ugly thud of the body was accompanied by metallic clanging. _Sanggyun._

The person turned around, and carelessly pressed harder onto his throat. Sangwon felt himself starting to choke. His eyes welled with tears of helpless fury. He kicked blindly, aiming for the person’s crotch, but he hit nothing, and as he tried again, he couldn’t move at all. Something invisible restrained him, making him feel even more helpless.

The hand released his throat at last, leaving Sangwon standing against the wall unable to move. The person that had been holding him stepped aside, revealing Sanggyun lying still on the dirty ground. Sangwon’s body strained to lash forward to him, but he couldn’t move at all. He felt hot tears streaming down his face, and the fact that he couldn’t hold them back or brush them off made him feel humiliated like he never was before.

There was a soft blow of wind against his right cheek, and as he looked to the right, he glimpsed another figure descending slowly from up above. The thin, although wide-boned, figure was clad in dark blue and black, their outfit was reminiscent of Yooncheol’s, but less tight and more ornate. That was the third attacker, as far as he could count, and there didn’t seem to be any more around. The person’s feet in soft boots touched the ground gently, and they lingered for a second before walking lightly up to Sanggyun – or Sanggyun’s body, Sangwon didn’t dare guess.

He noticed the flutter of Sanggyun eyelids, so subtle it was almost nonexistent. His breath hitched as he watched him open his eyes – Sanggyun was alive, and that was all that mattered. Sanggyun blinked a few times, then his eyes widened, and he gasped, struggling to stand up, but was immediately immobilized by a slight move of the person’s hands.

‘No-no,’ a muffled voice said from behind the mask. ‘Keep it down, Lieutenant Kim.’

Sanggyun panted, visibly struggling to open his mouth. Sangwon tried to open his, but couldn’t. He tried to moan to maybe get someone’s attention, but he couldn’t do that, either. Another hot tear ran down his cheek, burning him with humiliation.

‘Please, don’t try to move, young man,’ the person said, turning to Sangwon and slowly approaching him. ‘We only need Lieutenant Kim, and you boys are of no use to us. Please, behave yourself if you want to make it out alive.’

‘You’re not gonna waste your power on that memory-erasing shit,’ the white-eyed person called.

‘Oh well, odds are I will,’ the other replied, coming closer to Sangwon.

The eyes peeked into his – black almond-shaped eyes, a little sad – almost kind. Sangwon tried to open his mouth again, but all he could do was glare. The person sighed.

‘Okay, I see you are desperate to talk. Fine then. I’ll just make sure you don’t scream. I don’t like loud sounds.’

They moved their fingers slightly, and Sangwon felt his voice cords seemingly unclench. He opened his mouth, gasping for air he had needed for so long, and a little moan escaped his throat.

‘Help!’

He tried to shout, bit something stopped him, and the word came out more like a weak, pained sigh. Sangwon’s breath hitched in helplessness. His face scrunched against his will, and he bit onto his lower lip hard – he couldn’t even lower his head to hide his face, but tears were impossible to hold back.

The person raised their eyebrows.

‘Oh goodness. Listen, we aren’t gonna hurt you. We aren’t gonna kill you, don’t be afraid!’

Sangwon sent them the heaviest, most desperate glance he could muster. He could do nothing and he knew it, and there was no way he could bluff his way out.

‘I’m not afraid,’ he forced out. ‘I despise you. Don’t you dare hurt those two, you hear me?’

The black almond-shaped eyes blinked in confusion. Then, the person turned away from Sangwon to look at their companions.

‘They sure think they’re tough, these boys.’

‘Let’s get this over with,’ the person guarding Byungjoo called, not raising their voice. ‘We need to take Lieutenant Kim to the base and patrol the street. We don’t wanna get caught, especially with that bastard.’

‘Oh, yeah. Look, maybe you should leave this to me,’ the other suggested easily. ‘Then you won’t have to know if I abused my authority and let the captured go alive with erased memories. You simply won’t be part of my crime.’

‘This sounds alright to me,’ the white-eyed person hemmed. ‘The quicker I’m rid of this, the better. What you say?’

The one guarding Byungjoo shook their head.

‘No. Handling three hostages at once is dangerous, even if Hawk is the most skilled of us all.’

‘I can totally handle two hungry boys more,’ Hawk replied, a smile sounding in their voice. ‘You can check me.’

The white-eyed hemmed.

‘Set-go, Hawk,’ they said, and for barely a second Sangwon felt free. He lashed forward – and was stopped mid-motion as the invisible restraints squeezed him again, harder this time. He couldn’t see Hawk now, he was turned to Byungjoo and his guard. Another tear escaped his eye and fell to the dirty ground, leaving a little round spot.

‘Let go, Heron,’ Hawk encouraged.

‘I still don’t think this is a good idea,’ Heron shook their head.

‘Try it,’ Hawk sounded daring.

Heron huffed.

‘Your responsibility,’ they said, dropping their hands down.

Byungjoo only had time to raise his leg for a step. Hawk’s invisible nets caught him, and they let out a quiet satisfied ‘whoop!’

Heron shook their head.

‘As I said, your responsibility,’ they dropped, turning away reluctantly. ‘As well as Lieutenant Kim. If you get caught with him, I don’t care what happens to you. Come, Owl. I don’t want to know what this bastard is gonna do here.’

Sangwon caught the white-eyed Owl hem, and then there were two soft gusts of wind that hit his cheeks, and then stillness.

* * *

 

The stillness didn’t last long. He felt the invisible restraints disappear, and he stumbled, but stayed on his feet. The helplessness was gone, and the hot rush filled his body, replacing despair with fury. He straightened sharply, and looked up – he was ready to fight, he didn’t care how strong the magic was, he only wanted to save his friends. He spotted his target immediately.

Hawk stepped back, avoiding his fist, and reached up to grab their mask.

‘Sangwonie, stop!’ the voice called, muffled and unfamiliar just for a second more. Hawk tossed their mask off, revealing the face – wide cheekbones, a soft, surprised mouth. It took Sangwon a second and another swing of his fist to realize who had been hiding under the mask. Sangdo caught his one wrist, tightening his grip on it, and reached out for the other.

Sangwon froze. In one moment, he realized what he looked like. The rush was gone instantly, leaving him completely empty and seemingly naked. He felt his face, dirty and wet with snot and tears. He felt his entire body, holding an awkward pose. He jerked his wrists back, and Sangdo released them easily from his leather-clad fingers, following him with an agitated stare as he stumbled back.

‘Sangdo!’

Byungjoo ran up to him, and Sangdo caught him and pressed him to his chest. Sangwon reached up to his face involuntarily, and wiped his nose and eyes. His ears were scorching in shame.

_What a mess. What a fucking mess._

Sangdo was already kneeling beside Sanggyun.

‘Sanggyunie, are you alright? I’m so sorry!’

Sanggyun was sitting up, feeling himself up and down. After such an examination, he seemed rather satisfied. Sangdo stood up, offering him a helping hand, but Sanggyun didn’t accept it, stumbling to his feet and giving Sangdo a brief nod.

‘Good to know it’s you,’ he dropped. Sangdo lowered his hand and frowned at him slightly.

‘Looks like the plans have changed,’ Byungjoo stated, looking at Sangwon. He had caught his breath and calmed down much quicker for some reason, although his hands were still shaking violently, and his speech was stumbling. ‘I don’t think it’s safe for us to go to the drafting board any more.’

Sangwon could only give him a lost glance. He felt like he was broken into pieces, and he couldn’t arrange himself together. Byungjoo’s expression changed to concern, and he came up to Sangwon to put an arm around his shoulders and guide him closer to Sangdo and Sanggyun. Sangwon obeyed stiffly and reluctantly.

‘No, it isn’t safe for you to go there,’ Sangdo shook his head. ‘Especially unsafe it is for Sanggyunie. There is a hunt for Lieutenant Kim’s head, and every Magician wants to take part in torturing him,’ he gave a bitter smile, ‘although no one wants to go through the struggle of catching him and bringing him to the opposite side...’

‘Looks like we’ll have to part again,’ Byungjoo dropped thoughtfully.

‘How many have you fetched?’ Sangdo asked, knitting his eyebrows slightly, worriedly.

‘Two more, Hansol and Yooncheol,’ Byungjoo replied. His voice was growing more confident by second. ‘They’re waiting for us at The Winged Leg, but looks like you will have to go there without me and Sangwon...’

‘I don’t think we can go there,’ Sangdo interrupted. ‘I’m not that strong a shapeshifter, I can’t hold a disguise for long. I can’t afford to get spotted at The Winged Leg. I will have to bring him over to Hojoon right away.’

Byungjoo frowned.

‘For death?’

Sangdo shook his head.

‘No. They need him alive. They will be interrogating him, and that will win us some time. But they will quickly resort to tortures, so you need to hurry anyway.’

‘There’s still one thing we have to do here, before we can go to the other side.’

‘Fetch Sehyukie?’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘This is gonna be pretty difficult, but what can you do? I don’t think we have a plan, now that we have to proceed without Sanggyun, but we’ll figure something out.’

Sangdo frowned, looking down.

‘I don’t know… you guys need to be extremely careful. I’m too worried about you getting hurt.’

‘We’ll do our best,’ Byungjoo smiled. ‘We sure know this is dangerous, but well, we can’t proceed without Sehyuk, right?’

Sangwon caught Sanggyun looking away with a strange expression. He wanted to say something, but his lips and tongue disobeyed. He bit onto his lip and lowered his head.

‘Sangwonie.’

Sangwon shut his eyes at the sound of Sangdo’s voice, determined not to give out his feelings.

‘Will you be okay?’

He nodded.

‘Can I hug you?’

Sangwon nodded again, and the next second his head bumped comfortably into Sangdo’s shoulder. What he loved and hated about Sangdo was his delicacy, his tenderness and care, as if he was afraid of doing wrong. He always fucked up the biggest because of that wish, but Sangwon didn’t have the heart to tell him.

Sangdo stroked his back and released him easily.

‘I hope you’re feeling good enough to go on,’ his voice sounded from a bit above Sangwon’s head.

Sangwon nodded again. He was grateful. Sangdo didn’t always know how to help, but he always tried.

 _Thank you_ , - he thought, and by the way Sangdo patted his shoulder he knew he understood.

* * *

 

The little wind hit Sangwon’s cheeks, marking Sangdo and Sanggyun’s departure, and he felt that he couldn’t hold back any longer. He grasped himself across the stomach and bent in two, biting back sobs threatening to escape. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks. His entire body was shaking violently, and he felt it from his clanging teeth down to his ankles, which almost immediately gave way. He sank to the ground, and involuntarily reached his arms out, to stand up – but he couldn’t, and he remained sitting on his knees, his palms pressed into the dirt.

He felt a soft arm wrap around his shoulders, and flinched away violently, trying to stand up again, but collapsed – collapsed into Byungjoo’s open arms. He froze, trying to hold back his sobs, but a little whimper escaped his throat – and another wave of painful humiliation washed over him.

‘There was nothing we could do,’ Byungjoo said, quietly. ‘And it’s okay.’

Sangwon roared quietly, trying to free himself again, but Byungjoo pressed him closer to his chest, squeezing his shoulder with his fingers. Sangwon bit harder onto his lower lip.

The philosophy he lived by was that every person was the sole master of their own life, and that only that person’s choices determined what happened to them. He firmly believed that people were responsible for everything that came into their life, and he did his best to live _correctly_. He had mastered it, he thought, he was smart and he was careful, he always thought ahead, and he was strong enough to save his own life, and even as much as to save someone else’s.

He had been in fights, but when there was a fight, even with stronger opponents, there was always a possibility to slip out of hold, to use a different limb than the one restrained, to twist and turn, to bite, to pinch – there was always a way out. Sangwon taught himself to react quickly, to avoid the paralysis of shock, to hit on reflex, he taught himself to snap and to respond immediately, he taught himself to regret nothing. He taught himself not to cry. But the moment of immobility, of utter helplessness and uselessness that he endured when the Magicians attacked, was unlike anything Sangwon had experienced before; it was humiliating – and Sangwon hated himself for it.

_I could do nothing._

_I was inattentive._

_I inflicted this on myself. It’s my fault._

But he knew it wasn’t, and that knowledge was vast and terrifying. Life – the life that Sangwon had mastered and had had on his fingertips – life suddenly became huge and merciless; just a string of accidents, violent and uncontrollable, and every attempt to tame it was puny, illusory and hopeless.

Sangwon gave out a sob and pressed his dirty hands into his eyes, as if trying to push the tears back.

Byungjoo sighed over his head, pressing his cheek into Sangwon’s temple.

‘I know what you’re thinking, you know,’ he said, quietly. ‘Where’d you get such a saviour complex, Sangwonie? Why do you think you gotta be almighty?’

Sangwon huffed.

‘You know nothing,’ he forced out.

He didn’t want to admit Byungjoo right. He didn’t want to give into the notion that everything was an accident, and that he controlled nothing. That would leave him small and vulnerable, and Sangwon had spent all his life trying to stop being small and vulnerable. He just couldn’t, he refused to believe what Byungjoo knew was true.

Byungjoo sighed.

‘Yes I do.’

Sangwon huffed again, then sniffed, wiping his face childishly with his long sleeves. He couldn’t stand himself, and he couldn’t calm down, and that all made him want to cry even more.

‘Don’t hold back,’ Byungjoo said, quietly. ‘Pour that out, okay? There’s just us, and I promise no one will find out from me. There’s a lot of secrets I keep, and hardly any one ever slipped out.’

Sangwon shook his head fiercely.

‘No. No, I won’t cry.’

‘You’re already crying, so what’s the point anyway?’

Byungjoo sighed and Sangwon felt his fingers run through his hair in an awkward gesture of consolation. This was such sweet, long-awaited tenderness, and his body was ready to give into it, but his mind desperately protested – both because the facade was threatening to drop, leaving Sangwon naked, and because the person willing to give him such sweetness was the wrong one.

‘Byungjoo, stop that,’ he asked – begged.

‘You have to stop holding that shit back,’ Byungjoo said, seriously. ‘Holding back has never done anyone any good. If you keep bottling that up, it will fuck you up eventually. I know what you feel, believe it or not.’

Sangwon shook his head again, but his determination was readily giving.

‘It’s safe to let go now,’ Byungjoo said, softly, reassuringly.

Sangwon sniffed.

‘I don’t wanna let go,’ he muttered, honesty, and all of his pain slipped in the little phrase.

‘At least you are admitting it,’ Byungjoo said.

‘What good can it be?..’

Byungjoo gave a deep, heavy sigh.

‘More good than you think.’

Sangwon bit both of his lips, in the last vain attempt to calm down. Rage was starting to boil inside him, threatening to overflow.

‘Byungjoo…’ he managed finally. ‘Look, I know you want to help me, and I appreciate...’ he sobbed, ‘but please, for fuck’s sake, don’t make at least _something_ into your personal tragedy!’

That turned out louder than he thought, but conveyed the sentiment. Sangwon expected Byungjoo to push him away, to snap, he hoped he would start a fight.

‘I’m sorry,’ Byungjoo said quietly, and the pure fact that he didn’t even try to argue or justify himself pushed Sangwon over the edge.

‘I don’t wanna be this!’ he cried, grasping at Byungjoo's shoulders. ‘I don’t want – I’m not a helpless whiny bitch! I’m not a faggot that you think I am! I’m a man! I’m a fucking man, you hear me?!’

Byungjoo grasped him back, as tight as he did, - maybe he understood Sangwon’s rage and wanted to restrain him, maybe he just reciprocated everything that he got – Sangwon knew it was a good psychological trick. Whatever it was, Sangwon suddenly felt some exchange between them, like they had formed a circuit, and the electricity running through them amplified by second.

‘I’m not a faggot!’ Sangwon shouted, squeezing his eyes shut, and feeling tears of humiliation run down his cheeks. ‘I’m not helpless! I’m the master of my own life!’

He pushed Byungjoo, and Byungjoo fell on his back, pulling Sangwon along. He still wasn’t trying to fight, and the voltage in the circuit was growing rapidly. Sangwon opened his eyes and looked at Byungjoo underneath him: his concerned face without a trace of anger, his dirty, dishevelled hair, his thin frame that shouldn’t have carried such power. Against him, Sangwon painfully felt _himself_ , - a crying mess, weaker than ever, like back at school, like back at his teens, like a small bullied kid… at that moment, Byungjoo, one of _those fags,_ was more of a man than him, and that was more than Sangwon could bear. He lifted his hand and stroke.

Byungjoo’s head dangled to the side, - and returned to facing Sangwon. Nothing changed in his determined expression, in his anxious eyes, just his cheekbone was split now, and bleeding. Byungjoo didn’t say anything, didn’t even gasp, didn’t even hiss. Sangwon raised his other hand and stroke again.

Byungjoo’s head dangled to the other side, and a little forced exhale escaped his lips. As he turned to face Sangwon again, his mouth bloodied, and for a second his face was replaced with a vision of Yooncheol, the way Sangwon fetched him, - almost dead from his injuries, only wishing to hide away, like a dying animal.

‘Why aren’t you fighting back, you faggot?!’ Sangwon spat into his face, more desperately than anything else.

‘Do you want me to?’ Byungjoo managed, coarsely. ‘Or do you want to reclaim the power you think you have over your life? I can tackle you for all I care.’

‘Why don’t you do it, then?!’ Sangwon shouted, pressing Byungjoo into the ground.

The next moment his world took a quick upside-down turn, and Byungjoo’s face hung over him. A droplet of blood from his mouth fell right onto Sangwon’s lips, and poured down through. His mouth filled with salty, iron taste that made Sangwon nauseous.

‘What is a man, Sangwonie?’ Byungjoo asked, quietly, but tension sounded in his voice. The electricity between them never went anywhere, it was screeing in Sangwon’s ears, spitting invisible sparks around.

‘ _A man_ is strong, and a master of his life,’ Sangwon said, daringly. ‘ _A man_ is responsible and serious. _A man_ can protect others, Byungjoo, and _a man_ is in control of his emotions.’

‘How are _you_ a man?’

Sangwon’s breath hitched in his throat with rage. Byungjoo looked down at him, not a notch having changed in his face, and inhaled deeply.

‘How is _anyone_ a man, Sangwonie?’ he asked, quietly. ‘A master of his life my ass, you could be hit by a car tomorrow when you’d be walking the sidewalk, and you’d never have thought. In control of his emotions my ass, you have the most terrible anger issues, you have to admit it, and I _know_ how it feels, believe me, I know. All that you named doesn’t make a man, Sangwonie. All of that doesn’t even make a human being. And you _are_ a human being. And you need to fucking understand that.’

Sangwon gave a long exhale. Something in Byungjoo’s words resonated with him, although every inch of his being rose against it. Byungjoo huffed.

‘And with this you wanted attract Hansol?’

This was like a strike on the head. Sangwon opened his mouth and closed it again. The crackle of electric current got to its peak in his ears. Byungjoo shook his head.

‘You wanted to make Hansol love you by being an emotionless jerk with a god complex? Because this is what your definition of _man_ sounds like to me! Do you even know what Hansol is like?’

‘No, please stop,’ Sangwon whispered. He didn’t even care how vulnerable and _unmanly_ he was, pressed to the ground underneath Byungjoo. The words – _the truth –_ hurt more.

‘Hansol is tender and craves emotional response,’ Byungjoo said, looking Sangwon straight in the eye. ‘Hansol is mentally ill, and he needs high-level emotional intelligence and, more often than not, communication on his terms. Hansol is constantly hungry for tactile experiences. You know why he loves Yooncheol?’

Droplets of blood from his mouth fell all over Sangwon’s face, mixing with his tears. Sangwon bit onto his lower lip, feeling the salty taste fill his mouth, and shook his head pleadingly.

‘Yooncheol is misunderstood and weird,’ Byungjoo said, quietly. ‘Yooncheol is accepting – of others, but not of himself. He craves giving, but doesn’t know how to give – and yet he’s self-sufficient, and he doesn’t need to save anyone to exist as himself. He doesn’t think that much of himself, you know. See, that’s the problem with you. You severely overestimate your sphere of influence. Yooncheol is different. He knows he’s weak, and he works on his weaknesses – not to be a hypothetical _man_ in vacuum, but to grow over himself. And yet, he never thinks he’s good enough, for anybody. Between those two, there’s room for exchange. Between Hansol and a brick wall that you’ve described, there’s no room for exchange.’

‘Are you saying I need to hate myself to be loved?!’ Sangwon managed, in the last attempt to save his dignity.

‘All I’m saying is you need to be yourself,’ Byungjoo said. ‘To finally admit you’re head over heels in love with Hansol. To admit you have anger issues. To admit you’re not almighty, and that the only thing that makes a man a man is his fucking dick. Thinking a man is a set-in-stone collection of characteristics is outdated, Sangwon. Just like calling gay men faggots. Do you want to know whom, among others, you’re calling faggots? Hojoon and Sangdo. And Hansol, and Yooncheol, and myself. And yourself.’

Sangwon wanted to argue, but the words got caught in his throat, and he only managed a high-pitched sob. Byungjoo slid off of him and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

‘I’m sorry to burst your bubble like this,’ he said, sitting down beside Sangwon, ‘but someone had to do that. You deserve better than this, Sangwonie. You deserve to live in the real world, and I know you can do it. You’re smart – not just bookish-smart, but you’re emotionally intelligent, you’re insightful and you have brilliant analyzing skills. You have an absolutely beautiful mind, and the best intentions. But you also have a worldview you have long grown out of. And you need to throw it away and try on another one.’

‘You don’t need to sweeten up the pill for me,’ Sangwon replied, quietly. ‘I can take it.’

‘I know you can,’ Byungjoo said. ‘You can take much more than that, too. But you also deserve to know something: if we only take the best of what you’re striving for, you’ve already achieved it. You can protect others, Sangwonie, and you’re responsible – much more responsible than Sehyuk, I dare say.’

Sangwon huffed.

‘This is not the best comparison,’ he said weakly. ‘Sehyuk is the last person I’d call responsible, he’s so full of those failed leadership ambitions...’

‘He’s burdened with that sense of duty that he invented for himself,’ Byungjoo sighed. ‘Much like Hojoonie. And that haunts him and makes him anxious. Sehyuk, he’s… he’s not a bad person. But he needs somebody to tell him that there’s really a lot fewer things he’s responsible for. And we all should also stop expecting feats from him – especially you. He just wants us all alive and well, and he wants a little happiness for himself. Is that too much to ask, after all?..’

Sangwon sighed in response. The last tears out of his eyes were still dripping to the ground as he was lying on his back.

‘You’re pretty good at choosing the moment to tell people what they don’t wanna hear,’ he admitted. ‘Maybe you should talk to him.’

‘I know I should,’ Byungjoo said, seriously. ‘It has to be me, not anyone else. Poor Sehyuk.’

Sangwon sat up and wiped his eyes.

‘We should get going,’ he said, quietly. ‘I need a moment to think through everything, and walking helps me think. We don’t have that much time.’

‘You’re right,’ Byungjoo nodded, standing up and holding out a helping hand, which Sangwon accepted. ‘We should totally get going, and let these universes guide us. Here’s hope we will sort everything out.’

Sangwon nodded, following Byungjoo out of the backstreet. _Here’s hope._

* * *

 

Byungjoo led the way silently. Sangwon was silent as well, deep in thought. The tears left a disgusting feeling in his throat and stomach, and fatigue suddenly overwhelmed him. He couldn’t focus on anything in particular, and he just dragged his feet along – they seemed so heavy, as if an iron ball was tied to each of his ankles. He watched the dirty ground flow slowly and unevenly under his boots, sometimes thudding, sometimes slurping, and his head was full of the darkest nothingness. Little meaningless thoughts passed across that blackness as slowly as Sangwon’s feet dragged on.

_I need to stop._

_I need to rest. To sleep it off._

_I need a nice warm shower. I haven’t showered in… how many days?.._

He didn’t know. He realized he didn’t even remember how many days had passed – couldn’t have been so many, but he couldn’t be sure. Time turned into an endless undivided streak of thoughts and happenings, and fake memories blurred into real ones, getting mixed and lost.

It didn’t even surprise him when he ran into someone. He bumped into coarse fabric face-first, and had to step back, and stop. He looked up wearily at the person – they were standing with their back to him just for a second more. As they turned, Sangwon recognized their features.

‘Jiho,’ he stated, quietly, looking Jiho in the face.

Jiho had opened his mouth to say something – and froze with his mouth open. Sangwon cracked a little smile, almost involuntarily. Jiho looked as ridiculous as he did as the buff albino – the image flashed in front of Sangwon’s eyes and disappeared. When was it? The fairytale universe seemed like ages ago.

Jiho was wearing a uniform resembling Sanggyun’s, but lacking the colour white. Clad entirely in brown, in the grey daylight he mimicked the surroundings, dissolving on the dull and repetitive background. Only when he turned around again did Sangwon notice two others in similar outfits – a man and a woman.

‘Brana, Lee!’ Jiho called, and his voice sounded unexpectedly metal for the expression Sangwon had just witnessed. ‘I need you two to go for a little walk. Right around that corner, I’ll check. About – turn! Hup, two, three, four!’

The two obeyed Jiho’s command in perfect sync. They marched off to the corner Jiho pointed at, turned and disappeared from view.

Jiho waited, watching them intently until they were gone. Then, hecturned to Sangwon again, and this time his expression was all agitation.

‘Guys, what are you doing here? Byungjoo, what’s wrong with your face? This place is so dangerous, there are Magician secret patrols everywhere, this place is basically one huge trap – you know what’s going on, right?’

‘We sure do,’ Sangwon heard Byungjoo’s voice. ‘Don’t you worry, Jiho. You aren’t the first one fetched, - I mean, obviously, but more like, not the second one.’

Sangwon turned to look at Byungjoo. He didn’t have the energy to explain anything right now, so he appreciated his input. Byungjoo’s face looked bad: poorly cleaned form blood, it started to bruise and swell. Jiho’s gaze darted from Sangwon to Byungjoo.

‘Where are the others, then? And what’s with your face? Who did that?’

Byungjoo smiled slightly.

‘Well, we are the boys from Hansol’s humanitarian kitchen,’ he said, coming closer and lowering his voice. ‘So Hansol and I were fetched first thing. Then, Yooncheol came over. He’s a magician spy, a good shapeshifter and healer, but weak to physical damage. So Sangwonie fetched him, too. We decided we had to go and fetch Sehyuk while we’re on the Technicians’ side, but on our way we ran into Sanggyunie, who turned out to be...’

‘Lieutenant Kim,’ Jiho nodded. ‘Soon to be Senior Lieutenant. He was probably coming to draft somebody?’

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Yes, Sangwonie. There, we split. Yooncheol and Hansol went to wait for us at The Winged Leg, and we went with Sanggyunie. But, you know, around here we just about ran into a Magician patrol...’

Jiho drew a sharp intake of breath – Sangwon almost heard his heart fall down.

‘Is… that why you’re missing Sanggyun now?’

Byungjoo shook his head side to side.

‘Well… yes and no. The patrol was – I daresay – headed by Sangdo. So Sangwonie fetched him unknowingly. Sangdo took Sanggyun with him – I think they went straight to Hojoon. Sangdo’s not a good shapeshifter, so he couldn’t go to The Winged Leg to wait for us...’

Jiho frowned.

‘Wait, wasn't Sanggyun supposed to take you to the drafting board?’

Byungjoo shrugged.

'Well, that's exactly what I said. We figured that if Sangwonie is supposed to end up there, there’s probably someone there to fetch.’

Jiho chewed on his lip.

‘Now that’s weird,’ he said. ‘You know that this is not even remotely close to the drafting board, right?’

Now it was Byungjoo’s turn to frown.

‘How big is this city?..’

Jiho shook his head.

‘No, not like that. I think I know where that humanitarian kitchen is, the one you were talking about. And this place is _not_ on the way from there to the drafting board. It’s quite the opposite direction. The way from that ghetto to the drafting board is safe, and that’s the only reason Sanggyun – Lieutenant Kim – was let to go all the way alone, without guards. It’s a pure coincidence, a huge luck that we met, you guys. I was supposed to accept the draftees – I’m guessing you and Sangwonie, - today, but when nobody showed up for a while, I decided we had to go look for Sanggyun.’

Sangwon let out a loud breath.

‘Maybe he’s just shell-shocked,’ he suggested with a shrug. ‘You know how it goes. He’s a war veteran, he lost his arm and his foot… I’d expect someone like that to get lost in the city streets. And that would explain his weird behaviour.’

Jiho huffed.

‘What weird behaviour?’

Sangwon sighed.

‘Fatalistic, I’d say,’ he said, honestly. ‘And in general, very reserved, cold, distant… he’s been pushing everyone away – even Sangdo, even me, and that says something.’

Jiho licked his teeth.

‘He’s not shell-shocked,’ he said. ‘Otherwise he wouldn’t have been roaming the city alone. His mental state is fine. He brought you here deliberately.’

‘Why would he do that?’ Byungjoo hemmed.

‘That’s what I’d like to know.’ Jiho paused and squinted at Byungjoo again. ‘But you never told me what’s wrong with your face. Magicians don’t leave this kind of marks. And they look pretty fresh to me.’

Sangwon looked up at Byungjoo and met his gaze.

‘...you fought, didn’t you?’

Sangwon gave a deep sigh.

‘I knew it,’ Jiho slapped his hips. ‘I _so_ knew it, you guys – you all – can’t go fucking five metres without fighting, do you understand what you’re inflicting upon us?! We can’t afford to split up, we need to work as a team, not fucking bicker and fight!’

‘We didn’t fight,’ Sangwon said, quietly, interrupting Jiho’s outpourings. ‘Yes, I punched him, but we didn’t fight. That was a much more important thing, and I can tell you what, if anyone’s working together right now, it’s me and Joo.’

Jiho huffed, unconvinced.

‘We have more important stuff to do now,’ Byungjoo remarked. ‘We need to fetch Sehyuk and hurry to The Winged Leg and to the other side. There’s not much time to waste.’

‘More like, there isn’t _any_ time to waste,’ Jiho said, nervously. ‘The question is, how to bring you to the base and to Sehyuk and not raise any suspicions. Young draftees aren’t usually brought to the leader, we are not Magicians, you know...’

He looked around, as if searching for something.

‘Maybe you could bring us in as some violators or spies?’ Byungjoo suggested uncertainly. ‘I mean, I’m known as a Magician sympathizer.’

Jiho shook his head. A side smile bloomed on his face, changing his expression.

‘I have a much better idea. Watch this.’

He turned his back to the guys and called, in his metal voice:

‘Brana, Lee! Come out, hup, two, three, four, hup, two, three, four!’

The man and the woman marched out from around the corner in the same perfect sync. They stopped in front of Jiho, their backs straight as sticks. Jiho examined them, and remained satisfied.

‘At ease,’ he commanded. ‘I need your uniforms, no questions asked. Understood?’

Brana and Lee exchanged little horrified glances.

‘Understood?’ Jiho repeated. ‘Or am I not being clear?’

He reached for his belt – much like the one Sanggyun had had, - and slowly pulled out a gun - just enough to show it off. Sangwon heard a faint click. Lee and Brana nodded hastily. Jiho turned to look at Sangwon and Byungjoo over his shoulder – his lips were curled into a one-sided smirk, and the look in his eyes was cunning and self-confident.

‘Pen-drivers,’ he said, ‘what can you expect? Let’s find a quiet corner and get you guys changed. Lee, Brana, I don’t need you seen anywhere till the evening. Understood?’

He only lifted his gun a jot. Lee and Brana nodded, quickly and frightenedly.

* * *

 

The street was weirdly empty, although the district seemed pretty decent. Jiho and Byungjoo's boots stomped lively along the pavement, echoing against sturdy brick walls.

‘No, I don’t,’ Jiho replied to the question asked. ‘If you ask me, both sides are fucked up big time. If I were to choose, I’d abolish this divide at all, and return to what used to be. But I need to play along because I’m no leader.’

They were walking in an even, quick pace, along a wide street. As Jiho had explained, the base was right in the middle of the city, tucked from all sides by more privileged districts. People living there, unlike the ghetto folk, didn’t tend to randomly sympathize with the Magicians. They were well-fed, generally clean, and pretty much satisfied with their life, - as much as they could be during the war. People living there were mostly officers, senior engineers, and medics, with their families and staff.

Byungjoo and Jiho were leading the way. Sangwon dragged his feet slower, lagging behind and listening to them talk.

‘There are a lot of people who agree with you, in this universe,’ Byungjoo said. ‘Let’s theorize: you could organize another revolution by simply stopping the shooting altogether and directing your force to overthrowing the government – both the Prime Minister’s and Bora’s...’

Jiho sighed.

‘I’m no leader,’ he repeated. ‘Shin Jiho is a pen-driver, too. I don’t want war, I want peace. Before all that, I was a performer. I used magic to make a show, so you can say I was a Magician. When they started the transition to magic only, I was happy – for a little while. But then, with the ban on magic, everything started to fall out of balance. The use of magic for transportation was gone first, then use of magic for medicine. The entertainment magic stayed the longest, and things grew overcrowded. I mean, I could bear the competition, I was good, but it was a bit difficult with _that much_ of it.’

‘You’ve always been ambitious,' Byungjoo remarked, in a strange tone. ‘I thought you would be all fierce about proving you’re the best.’

'And then Bora started that… Magician sect.’ Jiho continued, ignoring Byungjoo’s remark. ‘I didn’t consider myself superior to any Technician, and I didn’t think Magicians superior at all. I still don’t. And I didn’t want all of that. I kind of… distanced myself. And then Technicians started offering jobs to, um, ‘ _expatriate’_ Magicians – some of them were hard labour, but promised a lot of money, and others promised less, but they were just kind of sort of quiet places to sit and do paperwork of different sorts. Not hard at all. I mean, I could go striving for something, but my ambition was long lost to fatigue. This political situation is exhausting, even thought I’m apolitical. So one day I went to the Technicians and applied. They gave me a room to live in and a job to do. And a few days after I found out that the Magician districts were bombed, and the house I used to live in was destroyed.’ He sighed. ‘As an ex-Magician, they didn’t let me into the armed forces, and I’m not capable in medicine, so I just stuck around here working at the drafting board, doing the paperwork. There are talks about the current regime between us, sure, but… well, I don’t want violence, and I’m no leader.’

‘Shin Jiho from here sounds like a huge asshole,’ Sangwon made his presence known. ‘You know, such a ratty little collaborationist. A time-server.’

Something in Jiho’s speech stirred rage in him. Jiho was talking so calmly, without a trace of remorse, although he was talking about precautiously switching sides in order to stay away from any kind of action. That didn’t sit well with Sangwon at all. He gave Jiho a chance to justify himself in his eyes, and he waited impatiently for the reply.

Jiho sighed deeply. Sangwon couldn’t see his face.

‘I am a terrible person, Sangwonie,’ Jiho said, a smile sounding in his voice. ‘I mean, I know that. But I think the world needs assholes like me.’

This wasn’t the answer Sangwon wanted to hear. He frowned, quickening his steps to catch up.

‘So you believe it’s okay not to have an opinion? It’s impossible to be apolitical, Jiho. Politics is not something separated from life. It’s life itself. The silence of good people kills other good people. Jiho.’

He peeked into Jiho’s face, but Jiho was looking straight ahead.

‘If everyone was a hero all the time, Sangwonie, everyone would probably be dead,’ he said, quietly. ‘Heroes are selfless, they don’t care for their lives or health – and they die, or they get badly injured, and they leave their loved ones mourning, or they leave someone caring about their disfigured body they can’t care for any more.’ His voice was growing. ‘And you know, I think _this_ is irresponsible, not _trying to survive_. I’m not hurting anyone, Sangwon. I just don’t have the energy to fight. And I have a mother. And a sister. And they don’t want me dead, Sangwon.’

Sangwon winced. A wave of rage rose from the bottom of his heart.

‘This is sure good enough a rhetoric to justify yourself in your own eyes, right, Jiho? To make yourself feel righteous. Sure serves you well!’

Jiho’s generally indifferent face twitched.

‘ _Unlike you_ , I don’t need to feel righteous,’ he said, caustically. ‘I’m quite satisfied with being what I am, even if someone like you thinks I am an asshole.’

‘Someone like me is who?’

‘Sangwon,’ Byungjoo warned, but Sangwon didn’t really care. The newly-found rage made him feel good – and now he knew he wasn’t powerless. He could exercise his ability to influence his surroundings – even just the flow of the argument.

Jiho huffed.

‘I don’t want to fight,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘Fighting doesn’t do us any good in this kind of situation.’

‘No-no, you called it, name it, Jiho,’ Sangwon encouraged defiantly.

‘Sangwon, I thought we figured that out,’ Byungjoo reminded quietly.

Sangwon sent him a murderous glance.

‘I wanna know what he thinks of me, is all.’

Jiho let out another loud breath.

‘I think you are the one of us who feels the need to be righteous and always justified,’ he said, slowly. ‘And... I’m sorry, but I think you are the one causing us the most trouble.’

‘Is this all?’

Jiho nodded.

‘Yes. That is.’

Sangwon scoffed.

‘Then keep your mouth shut.’

‘Actually, it was you who interrupted us,’ Byungjoo said, with pressure. ‘I was talking to Jiho, and you just butted in and started picking a fight.’

Jiho raised his hand preventively.

‘It’s okay, Byungjoo,’ he said. ‘I’ll keep it down for a while. We’ve arrived, you know. You guys need to play along now. I’m relying on you and your common sense.’

Sangwon looked up – and couldn’t help but frown, wondering. The base, if he was to believe Jiho, was located in the half-rotten barn on the edge of a grey wasteland.

‘Uh… you sure?’ he had to ask, barely caring for how stupid he could seem in the eye of the person he had just condemned as an asshole.

‘Wait for it,’ Jiho replied, his voice even. ‘Follow me.’

And he headed off straight for the barn.

Sangwon shot Byungjoo a glance, and met a surprised expression. They shrugged at each other.

‘We probably gotta follow,’ Byungjoo suggested.

Sangwon shook his head side to side, but stepped forward and led the way. He walked into the rickety doorframe of the barn, where Jiho had disappeared, and stopped in the tiny space. Byungjoo went in right after, making it even tinier.

The boards that the barn was made of were old and worn. The cracks between some of them were so wide that Sangwon could fit two fingers in them. As he drew in the humid air, a strong smell filled his nostrils – the barn smelled of mold and metal, God knows for what reason. Sangwon crinkled his nose.

‘Are we going down on a secret elevator?’ he asked, looking around.

‘About right,’ Jiho confirmed, grabbing one of the more worn boards and pulling it up and towards himself. ‘Hold on.’

The floor under their feet started trembling – slightly at first, but growing stronger. The floor started slowly going down with a strange sound. Jiho jumped down onto the descending elevator, and dusted his hands off.

‘So the base is underground,’ Sangwon stated, watching the weak walls of the barn as they disappeared from view.

‘It is,’ Jiho replied. ‘It’s located in ancient catacombs. Not everyone knows that – I mean, not even all of the officers know where the base is and how to access it. But you’re lucky to have me.’

‘I see the Technicians have a lot to fear,’ Sangwon said, thoughtfully.

‘Don’t we all,’ Byungjoo dropped, and Sangwon had to admit him right.

The descent was becoming long. The light was fading fast, until it was completely gone. The darkness set in.

Sangwon looked up and distinguished the tiny square of dim light high above. Weirdly enough, the hole didn’t seem like a hole any more. It was so black around that it felt like an endless space, unlimited and filled with everything and nothing at once. Sangwon couldn’t feel Jiho and Byungjoo’s presence any more. He looked down at his hands – and saw them clearly on solid black background. He wasn’t sure if he was seeing with his _eyes,_ and that was a strange feeling.

_What is there to see with, beside eyes?_

Sangwon looked up again, at the tiny square of light, then back down at his hands.

_Wow, weird…_

He frowned. The blackness was slightly too overwhelming. He realized he needed a reassurance that he wasn’t alone. He opened his mouth, and barely felt it form the word, – _‘Byungjoo!’_ – he felt his vocal cords vibrate, he felt his throat fill with sound, but the sound itself didn’t come. The movement of the floor had stopped – Sangwon wasn’t even sure if there was a floor underneath. He looked up and didn’t see the square of light any more. He felt fear fill him to the brim – dark fear, threatening to overflow and become one with the surrounding blackness, threatening to make Sangwon himself dissolve in it.

He tried to breathe – the feeling of breath didn’t come. Sangwon closed his eyes tight and tried to envision Jiho’s and Byungjoo’s faces. He put in a mindful effort and saw them – there they were, clad entirely in brown, Jiho’s uniform tailored, flattering his frame, and Byungjoo’s slightly too big for him, hanging loose on his bony body. They turned to him and…

‘Sangwon!’

He opened his eyes – and had to squint at the bright orange light. He blinked fiercely, but couldn’t open his eyes and had to look through his eyelashes at the light flowing through the big orange rectangle of the elevator door opening.

‘Ugh.’

‘What’s your emergency?’ an unfamiliar voice asked.

‘Lieutenant Kim has been captured,’ Jiho replied sternly. ‘We need to report to Mayor Park immediately.’

‘What?!’ another unfamiliar voice exclaimed. ‘How did they manage that?! Did the doctors enhance his arm and leg for nothing?!’

‘The Magicians have their ways,’ Byungjoo said, mimicking Jiho’s intonation.

‘Must have been freakin’ strong, huh?’ one of the unfamiliar voices asked.

‘We need to report to Mayor Park,’ Jiho repeated stubbornly. ‘Please, let us pass. It is indeed an emergency.’

Sangwon finally managed to properly open his eyes and look around. He took in the elevator door, opening into a wide, brightly lit corridor, Jiho and Byungjoo’s backs, and two other people, in similar uniforms, but with more buckles, which were shining in the yellow light. They, Sangwon could guess, were guards.

‘Where’s Brana?’ one asked, examining Sangwon carefully. ‘You usually take her with you.’

‘She wasn’t with us when Lieutenant Kim was captured,’ Jiho said, his voice even. ‘Can we pass now?’

The guard huffed.

‘You sure can.’

He stepped aside, letting the three pass. As Sangwon stepped into the light, feeling instantly safer, and passed the guards, he heard the one’s lowered voice:

‘What’s that last one’s name?’

The other grunted.

‘Fuck knows, man,’ he said. ‘Those chinks all look the same...’

He winced in disgust, but said nothing.

* * *

 

 

As soon as they took a turn, Byungjoo grabbed Sangwon’s shoulder.

‘What happened?!’

‘ _What_ happened?’ Sangwon specified, turning to Byungjoo to meet his bewildered stare.

‘I swear that you weren’t there when the elevator stopped!’

‘You weren’t,’ Jiho confirmed, worriedly, turning to Sangwon. ‘The light poured in and you weren’t there. And then we turned around – and you reappeared… just on time for the guards to notice you.’

‘I think I felt that, too,’ Sangwon confessed, moving his shoulders uneasily.

‘Where were you?’ Byungjoo demanded.

Sangwon shook his head.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It felt like I was _nowhere_ , literally.’

Jiho shook his head.

‘This seems dangerous. We’ll need to get up to the surface a bit later, make sure you don’t disappear, okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Sangwon nodded. ‘We don’t need the hero of the day lost, right?’

‘We don’t need _Seo Sangwon_ lost,’ Jiho said firmly, not turning to him. Sangwon looked at his back, then at Byungjoo – they were right there, just like he had envisioned them in the endless blackness: in their brown uniforms, with their weird hair and glimmering buckles. Warmth filled his chest, and he smiled slightly. At that moment, he was ready to forgive Jiho for his abominable statements.

* * *

 

‘What, all three of you?’

Jiho nodded firmly. The guards exchanged glances. The question was being asked for the third time already, and, despite Jiho’s confident assertiveness, the guards were hesitant.

‘We’ll need to inform Mayor Park and he’ll set a time for your appointment tomorrow,’ one suggested.

‘This is an emergency,’ Jiho said, clearly trying not to roll his eyes. ‘A matter of life and death, the entire fraction may be in danger. We need to report as witnesses.’

Sangwon bit harder onto his lower lip. Jiho had warned them not to mention the legend. ‘ _Those guards by the elevator are far away from Sehyuk,’  -_ he had said. ‘ _But these two will gladly pick up our news – any news – and bring them themselves. Even if they’re not sure what exactly happened. I’ll do the talking, alright? I’m the direct superior of Brana and Lee, whose uniforms you are wearing. Just play your part and be quiet.’_

It was getting difficult to be quiet, because Sangwon couldn’t shake the feeling that the guards were being obtuse on purpose.

‘Are you not letting us in?’ Jiho asked. His voice was even, but Sangwon almost felt the air around him vibrate.

‘We need to inform Mayor Park first,’ one of the guards moved his shoulders hesitantly.

Jiho let out a loud breath.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to let in some important news about Lieutenant Kim?’

This was the last resort. The guards started at the name.

‘Lieutenant Kim?’

‘What happened to Lieutenant Kim?’

Jiho raised his chin ever so slightly.

‘I need to inform Mayor Park first,’ he said, perfectly mimicking the intonation of the guard. ‘As I said, the entire fraction might be in danger.’

The guards frowned at each other.

‘Well… if it’s Lieutenant Kim… well, in that case, I guess...’ one blabbered, looking down.

The other reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulled out a giant key and turned to the door. After some clanging, there was a distinctive clicking sound, and the door opened with a loud metallic wheeze.

‘Ring thrice,’ the guard instructed, looking away. ‘Don’t try knocking, the door is soundproof, but equipped with hidden emergency buttons.’

‘I sure know,’ Jiho replied, nodding expressly courtly. ‘Hup-two-three-four!’

And he led the way, marching into the entrance. Sangwon and Byungjoo followed suit, trying their best to match his steps. They walked into another short corridor, ending with a door, brightly lit, and completely empty. The entrance closed heavily behind their backs, and they heard the clanging of the key in the hole. In a moment they were alone, locked in the small space between two doors.

Jiho turned to Sangwon and Byungjoo and smiled.

‘Well, we’re there, guys,’ he said. ‘We’re almost done with this level.’

‘Don’t hurry,’ Byungjoo warned. ‘We’re nowhere close to being done. Let’s just get going. Ring the bell, we need to fetch Sehyukie.’

Jiho nodded.

‘Yep. Second to last!’

‘But not yet last,’ Sangwon reminded.

Jiho shook his head side to side and turned to the door. Beside it was a handle – a lever of sorts, probably serving as an advanced doorbell. Jiho reached for it and pulled - _one, two, three_. There was no sign of any reaction on the other side of the door, - just as the guards had said, it didn’t let out even the smallest sound. The still air was heavy on Sangwon's shoulders. Jiho stepped back, and they all waited in complete silence.

In the surrounding stillness, the slight motion drew everyone’s attention. The door opened to the outside, slowly, giving them time to step back. Through the widening crack Sangwon glimpsed the room behind the door – a space, not very big, boasting wonderful frescoes on the walls. It had a table in the middle, with a map or a model, much like those Sangwon was used to seeing in movies. There was nothing more to be seen inside the room, with an exception of a short, skinny man in a uniform – brown, like all the Technician soldiers had, but much more laconic, equally resembling a military outfit and a formal suit.

Sehyuk pierced each one of the three with his careful, lively stare. He was slightly broader in the bones than usual, although the suit couldn’t hide his bony limbs. He was angular, his hair was cut short, and a scar crossed his left cheek. One of his squarish, wiry hands lacked the pinky finger. Everything in him was asymmetric, energetic and very much _alive_ against the ancient majesty of the catacombs.

‘Are you bringing the news, Officers?’ Sehyuk asked seriously.

Jiho sent Sangwon a glance. Sangwon didn’t need another invitation. He stepped forward.

‘Mayor Park, we’re bringing in the news about Lieutenant Kim,’ he said, looking straight at Sehyuk.

Sehyuk squinted at him, then his expression changed, briefly and predictably to that of surprise.

‘Guys?’

‘Yes, we came,’ Jiho said, seriously. ‘And we have a few things to tell you.’

Sehyuk nodded quickly, stepping back to let them in.

'Come,' he said, but they didn't really need that invitation.

Sangwon walked inside first – purely out of curiosity about the frescoes. As he walked in, he looked around, taking in their bright colours. The frescoes, barely exposed to the light, were extremely well-preserved, and depicted half-naked people draped in blue and reddish-brown clothes dancing, eating, drinking, and making love.

‘You like them?’ Sehyuk called from behind Sangwon’s back.

Sangwon looked away from the happy people and looked at Sehyuk.

‘They’re cool,’ he summarized, trying his best to appear unaffected. Sehyuk nodded, satisfied.

‘They are. They’re having fun. And we here aren’t.’

‘We sure aren’t,’ Byungjoo said, finding his hand a place on the model, on some wasteland, and leaning onto the table. ‘We have the last remaining person we have to fetch.’

‘Is that Hojoonie?’ Sehyuk asked.

Byungjoo nodded.

‘Right.’

Sehyuk nodded in response, thoughtfully.

‘In what fractions are the others?’ he asked, slowly, as if putting a puzzle together in his head. ‘Except for Sanggyunie, Lieutenant Kim is a known figure among the Technicians.’

‘Hansol is a Technician,’ Byungjoo licked his lips. ‘And Yooncheol is a Magician spy. Those two are probably still waiting at the Winged Leg, and they must be growing impatient… also, Sangdo is the head of a Magician patrol, and he took Sanggyun with him to the Magician base. The official legend is that the Magicians kidnapped Lieutenant Kim and are holding him hostage. That’s about it.’

‘I see…’ Sehyuk nodded. ‘it’s good that you ended up at my office before you went to see Hojoon, you know.’

‘Why’s that?’

Sangwon turned to Sehyuk. Sehyuk sighed.

‘There’s a secret attack planned on the Magician base this evening at eight,’ he said, looking away. ‘At eight Hojoon leaves his secure room and for a few minutes he is exposed. At eight o’clock exactly, the bombs will be dropped down onto the base, and that will be the end of the Magicians in this city.’

Sangwon hemmed.

'Well, we've sure heard about this attack, but these are new details.'

'I haven't,' Jiho remarked, quietly.

'Well, now you have,' Sangwon sent him an expressive glance. ‘What time is it?’

Sehyuk pulled a watch out of his breast pocket and glanced at it.

‘Half past five. The way from base to base is about two hours on foot, and an hour and a half if we really-really hurry.’

‘We still have to pick up Hansol and Yooncheol,’ Byungjoo reminded.

Sehyuk huffed. He put his palms together, connecting fingertips, slowly, thoughtfully.

‘I’m staying here,’ he said finally. ‘As the Mayor and the Technicians’ leader in the city, I can postpone the attack.’

Sangwon felt his insides start to boil.

‘Are you kidding?!’ he exclaimed. ‘If the Magicians’ base is that far away, how are you gonna reach us on time?!’

Sehyuk shook his head.

‘I don’t know. I really don’t. The generals under my control are extremists. If I try to put the bombing off for too long, or if I don’t invent a good enough reasoning, they will give commands disregarding my word. They can also murder me as a traitor.’

‘And you wanna stay here, you say?!’

Sehyuk shook his head again. His face was helpless. Sangwon scoffed. _Pathetic._

‘I don’t know,’ Sehyuk said, quietly. ‘Me staying here is dangerous. But if we all run to Hojoon and fetch him, and gather together – what then? The bombs that are prepared to annihilate the Magicians are truly deadly – and I mean it, those are weapons of mass destruction. There’s a fair chance that all of us will be instantly killed.’

Sangwon shrugged.

‘Sounds like as good a way as any,’ he said, expressly carelessly. ‘Falling asleep, fainting and dying all work the same. And if we die simultaneously, the better.’

Sehyuk sighed heavily.

‘There’s also a fair chance that only some of us will die instantly. The others might survive, disfigured. Without limbs, you know. I don’t know how they will follow. I personally am afraid of pain.’

‘Won’t the Technician soldiers be _cleaning up_ the debris?’ Sangwon asked. His voice sounded bitter without him intending to.

Sehyuk moved his shoulders uneasily.

‘They will,’ he said,’ but they won’t hurry. And I doubt there will be anyone _capable_ of killing off those begging for death...’

Sangwon licked his lips. Cold shivers ran up his spine

‘But I guess us all dying is more probable, isn’t it?’

Sehyuk looked away.

‘If the generals don’t receive my command to start the operation, and even worse, if they discover my absence… they will decide I was kidnapped by the Magicians. In that case, the bombing will cover not just the Magician half, but also the Technician ghettos, the neutral stripe and this base. And it will occur _much_ sooner.’

‘When do you need to give your command?’ Jiho asked.

‘In an hour,’ Sehyuk replied, turning away. ‘Then they will have time to prepare the zeppelins, to equip them and to have them properly ascend before heading towards the Magician side of the city. But if I tell them to postpone the attack right about now, there’s a chance that I will be able to escape unnoticed.’

Sangwon rubbed his chin. He didn’t like to admit Sehyuk right, because the decision to stay sounded cowardly to him. A sudden thought crossed his mind: _What if he wants to run away from us? To part, hoping that he would just be released from the game?_

‘This is fair,’ Byungjoo remarked. ‘We should hurry in that case.’

Sehyuk nodded, rubbing his palm with his thumb nervously.

‘You should. And I should, too.’

‘Maybe someone should stay with you, in case you need to fight your way through,’ Jiho suggested.

‘You won’t be able to do that without raising suspicions,’ Sehyuk said firmly, walking away to the wall and staring at the frescoes. ‘Don’t worry, go. I will do my best to catch up with you.’

‘Are you certain that you will do your best?’ Sangwon asked, a bit more caustically than he intended.

Sehyuk turned to him, frowning.

‘What?..’

Sangwon shrugged slightly.

‘Of course I will, what are you talking about?..’ Sehyuk asked, his expression pure confusion.

Sehyuk was too simple to lie this masterfully. Sangwon nodded.

‘Okay then. Sorry. See you.’

Sehyuk nodded, sending Sangwon a side-eyed glance as he turned away and walked off to the table. He opened one of the drawers and took out a bunch of keys on a thick metallic ring. He ran through them quickly, picked out two and headed off to the door. Sangwon watched carefully as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door to the outside. He walked out first, and Sangwon followed suit.

Sehyuk opened the second door and let the guys out, past the guards. Sangwon turned and gave him a long look before parting. Sehyuk returned his stare, raising his chin a bit, and then gave a little promising nod.

* * *

 

All the way to the Magician base, from the moment they picked them up at the Winged Leg, Hansol was quiet and grim. Sangwon noticed it immediately, but any careful questions went unanswered. His attempts were further obstructed by Yooncheol, always staying close to Hansol, keeping a watchful eye out for him. Sangwon couldn’t help but feel like he was being silently watched whenever he approached Hansol, so after a while he gave up. He kept sneaking glances anyway, although he couldn’t be more certain that Hansol was sad. His hunched shoulders and down-turned eyes, his grimly shut mouth and a little line between his eyebrows all gave him out straight away. But he didn’t want to talk about it, and Yooncheol’s worried gazes were making Sangwon uneasy, so it was impossible to find out why. They proceeded in silence, careful not to draw any attention.

The Neutral stripe turned out to be grey and covered in debris. Stray cats and dogs occupied the rubbish piles and ruins, along with enormous rats, and, as Yooncheol warned them again before entering, Magician and Technician patrol squads.

They moved along in short sprints from here to there, sometimes falling to the ground and freezing: the greyish-brown rags of the Technician beggars served as pretty good camouflage in the uneven landscape of the Neutral stripe. Yooncheol kept his hand on the rope tied around his shoulders – _his belt –_ at all times. They were extremely cautious, hiding at any sound, but they never even glimpsed any people – just feral animals. The neutral stripe was narrow. As they reached the outskirts of the Magician side of town, Yooncheol shapeshifted back into his tall, slender, black and blue self, and Sangwon looked back – and realized that he could see the other side perfectly clear, greyish brown and reminding of another pile of rubbish.

The buildings on the Magician side were tall and smooth, made of darker stone, and with evenly distributed, perfectly clean, blinded windows – fake, as Yooncheol explained. The tall houses with fake windows, he said, sheltered the Magician ghettos he had mentioned before, – hundreds of people were supposed to live there, like in towns in towns, and never ever go out, except under the strictest supervision, to go to work or to war.

The base was located about the centre of the Magician side. As they walked on and on, further from the edges, the buildings became smaller, and the streets wider and more crowded. Sangwon didn’t even bother hiding his fascination. He examined people, - some in uniforms and some finely dressed up, - and couldn’t but notice that they were all in comfortable footwear, no woman was restrained by a corset, and that all of them had their hair either tied up or cut short. They were seemingly relaxed, but they were ready to fight at all times, ready to put their skills to a good use, and Sangwon would have been convinced that the Magicians were much better than the Technicians, if he had not seen the _ghettos_ with his own eyes. The mere thought of always staying indoors like that, only to see the sunlight and die at war, made him shudder.

At length, they reached a tall fence. It was dark and smooth, like the walls of the ghetto buildings, and didn't let them see anything that was behind it – not even a rooftop peeked over the edge. The gate in the fencing looked small, and two guards on each side of it were barely noticeable at all – dark blue, like the stone, their faces obscured by masks.

Sangwon watched Yooncheol intently. He was prepared for the secondhand embarrassment that he couldn't get rid of any time that they let Yooncheol do the talking. But Yooncheol didn’t as much as part his lips. Under the careful stares of the guards, he came up to the gate and placed his hand in a little indent. His fingers glowed a soft blue, and something gave a loud click. The door cracked open. Yooncheol looked over his shoulder at the others and gave a small smile.

‘Follow me,’ he said evenly.

Sangwon walked in after Yooncheol, straight and slow-paced, and looked back at the others. Byungjoo marched in right after him, and Jiho softly guided Hansol forward. Behind their backs, the gate closed slowly, and clicked locked back into place.

‘Look up,’ Yooncheol suggested.

Sangwon looked up, and frowned slightly at the purplish veins running across the sky.

‘Is the fencing enchanted?’ he asked, looking back down and at Yooncheol – just uttering his first guess.

Yooncheol nodded.

‘It is. Every day the spell is refreshed by some of the strongest magicians. Too bad the Technicians have learned to make the bombs that can shoot through. Not the first try, but they have a plenty of bombs. You know, the weapons are made rather quickly. Magic is taught and mastered at a much slower pace.’

Sangwon sighed.

‘I thought you guys were much stronger than that.’

Yooncheol gave a small weary smile.

‘I thought so. But after all that time as a spy I know better than to pick sides.’

Ha gave Sangwon a long, knowing look. Sangwon looked down and sighed. He didn’t really want to admit that Yooncheol was right, that he understood everything, that he saw the universes through and had long figured out the drill, if not the purpose, of the weird game they were trapped in. Something in Yooncheol drew him, but something else – no, he _knew_ what exactly, - made him doubt again and again.

Yooncheol sighed.

‘Come on, we gotta go,’ he reminded. ‘We’re short on time, and we still have to find Sangdo and Sanggyun.’

 _If Sanggyun wants to be found, -_ Sangwon thought grimly.

‘Right,’ he said aloud. ‘Let’s get going.’

Behind the fencing, around them, was a green grassy field, with just a few cabins scattered here and there – the guardians’ houses, as Yooncheol explained. The base was a low building – or rather a maze-like system of buildings – and it had a door, opening, just like the gate, by one’s own magic. Yooncheol repeated the manipulations under the guards’ watchful gaze, and led the guys inside. No one really asked questions, and Sangwon felt at ease.

The Magicians’ base was brightly lit with yellowish light, reminding that of sunlight and pleasant to the eye. The Magicians in uniforms were strolling the wide corridors busily here and there – and overall Sangwon couldn’t help but notice that the Magician side looked much more lively. The Technicians’ camp was empty and dirty, as if it was abandoned, and made a great, textbook contrast to this place, dark blue and green, brightly lit, and full of people.

Yooncheol led the way through the corridors, giving away little bows here and there, and exchanging polite greetings with people. Sangwon watched his slender frame, his springy step, and couldn’t shake the feeling that only now was Yooncheol truly himself – and yet, that he was uncomfortable like that. The transformation into the stooped beggar and back again was much more than just a disguise, Sangwon knew it all along, but now that the grim decorations of the Technician side weren’t pressing on him could he gather his thoughts together and think straight.

Now he could see Yooncheol _was_ the majestic Magician – he was tall and slender, he had good taste, a sharp mind, a careful eye and a great ear; Yooncheol _felt_ , and very acutely, what others felt, and he was very aware of his own feelings. But he was seemingly ashamed of everything that he was, and Sangwon knew the exact reason. Yooncheol’s picky perfectionism made him a good producer, and did a lot of good when it came to work – but inside Yooncheol’s head that perfectionism was eating him alive. Yooncheol was his own evillest judge, in every sphere; he never found himself good enough, and if he wasn’t good enough he preferred not to show anything at all. And when he was _made_ to show his unrefined self, he seemed dense, slow, and unempathetic, he seemed clumsy, and his immediate defense was to make it look like he always meant it to be like that. Yooncheol was used to being the butt of the jokes, he was used to being in the background, he was used to being brushed off as a secondary character. And Sangwon caught himself wondering what he would be like when he got his own universe to work through.

Now he could see it all too well: the refined, skillful Magician felt more comfortable blending in as the poorest beggar. Stooped, dishevelled and lost, he felt more on place than showing off his bright side. That was the entirety of Yooncheol – never good enough, always working himself off his feet.

‘ _Loving Hansol isn’t healthy for you,’ -_ Byungjoo had said, and Sangwon caught himself wondering if loving Hansol could be unhealthy for Yooncheol, too, - if Yooncheol really _did_ love Hansol. Not like one of _those fags…_ or a lot like them? A lot like Sangwon himself?..

He bumped right into Yooncheol’s back – the texture of the blue fabric was slightly, pleasantly rough, and the leather straps were smooth and cold. He stepped aside – and his look jibbed into the man holding his arm out, stopping Yooncheol from going on. Sangwon looked a bit further up and realized who it was.

Sangdo was trying his best to maintain composure, but he hardly succeeded. His mask was tied around his neck, like a bandanna on a kid from the nineties, and his hair was all dishevelled.

‘We… need to talk,’ he muttered, his voice shaky and coarse.

Yooncheol nodded.

‘Be quick.’

From Sangdo's look, Sangwon knew exactly what would happen, and he wasn't mistaken. Sangdo grabbed Yooncheol's wrist and dragged him along, and Yooncheol only managed to turn around and call:

'Hurry!'

Sangwon actually had no choice but to hurry, checking back to make sure the others followed. The Magician base was a real maze, and they didn't need to get scattered around and lost.

Sangdo turned once, then again, and again - everything looked absolutely the same, just different people jumped off, letting Sangdo pass. They ended up in a dead end with only one inconspicuous door in the furthest wall. Only then did Sangdo stop and look around – but he hardly needed it. Not even a sound reached them here, the spot was completely out-of-the-way, and Sangwon couldn't help but wonder if the person working in that room ever got lonely. He didn't have time to wonder long. Sangdo grabbed Yooncheol’s shoulders, and his agitated gaze ran along all the faces.

‘Guys,’ he whispered, ‘guys, we got trouble. You need to hurry! They took Sanggyunie from me at once, and I know they’re gonna be torturing him! Hell, they could be torturing him right now!’

Yooncheol gave a deep sigh. Sangwon could almost feel his pain - Sangdo squeezed his shoulder way too tightly in his fingers, and the first wave of his terror was hitting Yooncheol right in the face.

‘Sangdo.’

‘You need to run and fetch Hojoon,' Sangdo muttered, not paying attention. 'Only he can set him free. Guys, you need to hurry!’

‘Sangdo.’

Sangdo looked into Yooncheol’s face pleadingly. Yooncheol nodded.

‘Sangdo,’ he repeated, once again, patiently. ‘It’s okay. We’re here. At least we’re here. We’re headed for Hojoon’s room right now. We'll fetch him in a minute, and he'll get Sanggyun. There’s nothing to worry about.’

‘They are _torturing_ him,’ Sangdo managed, his kind black eyes welling with tears.

‘We can heal him, if they do anything to him,’ Yooncheol said firmly. ‘Now look. I know how you feel, but we can’t waste time panicking. We have to go and fetch Hojoon, and then we need to figure some more things out. Okay?’

Sangdo nodded. A tiny tear escaped his eye, and he reached up to quickly wipe it off.

‘I know, it's just... It’s my fault, I had to be more assertive.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Hansol made his presence known.

He came up to Sangdo and softly took his hand. Sangdo glanced at him and squeezed his fingers in his own - a brief, comforting gesture.

‘We can’t waste time,’ Yooncheol reminded. ‘We gotta go.’

Sangdo nodded quickly, shaking himself up and straightening.

‘Yes. Yes, let’s go.’

* * *

 

Yooncheol let Sangdo lead the way further on. Sangwon watched it with some amusement, despite faint stings of guilt – he had to feel bad for Sangdo and Sanggyun, but nothing felt real any more. Sangdo grabbed Yooncheol's wrist again, quickly releasing Hansol. He all but flew along the corridors, and Yooncheol had to pull his hand back to make him walk a little slower. Every time he did that, Sangdo would slow down and straighten, putting on the look of a serious man, but a couple tens of steps in he gradually started picking up speed all over again. A few times, Yooncheol had to literally pull him down to earth, because Sangdo was so agitated he soared up as his feet moved faster. Finally, Sangdo stopped in front of another inconspicuous door and glanced over his shoulder.

‘We… didn’t lose anyone, did we?’ he asked, uncertainly, as if having only just woken up.

Sangwon smiled.

‘No, don’t worry,’ he said, quickly counting the familiar faces - just to be sure.

Yooncheol didn't waste time. As Sangwon turned back to him again, he put his hand into the indent in the door, just like those on all the others, and his fingers glowed, causing something on the other side to click. The door opened a crack, - but Sangwon noticed thin lines of barbed wire made out of light that appeared between the door and the frame. Yooncheol must have known they were there. He took his hand away, stepped back and straightened.

‘May we come in?’ he asked, loudly.

‘Who are you?’ a voice asked from behind the door.

Sangwon glanced to Byungjoo standing beside him, and met his grin. This exchange looked ridiculous. Yooncheol remained unaffected, however.

‘Shin Yooncheol,’ he replied, sending Sangdo a glance.

‘Yu Sangdo the Hawk,’ Sangdo said quickly.

‘We’re bringing in draftees,' Yooncheol summed up, in an official tone.

‘How many?’ the voice asked.

‘Four.’

Sangwon looked away, trying to suppress unbidden laughter. There was a couple moments’ silence. Yooncheol shifted on his feet.

‘Hawk, when did you have the time to draft anyone?’ another voice asked, slightly mockingly.

Sangdo turned to Yooncheol. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

‘I need someone I trust to support me,’ Yooncheol replied, without batting an eye. ‘I’m a good shapeshifter, but I’m not the best in combat. We need to protect our leader.’

There was another little silence from behind the door, as if whoever were there were considering his words.

‘So be it,’ was the answer, at last, and the barbed light disappeared. Yooncheol grasped the door and pulled it open with visible effort.

They walked into a brightly lit room, and for a moment Sangwon got a weird feeling that he found himself in the twenty-first century in the midst of the steampunk universe. The light in the room was cold, the walls white with slight texture, obscured by smooth bookshelves here and there. The floor tiles were smooth and even, too, and perfectly white. The room looked like a normal office, if not for the people sitting in the middle.

In the middle of the room was a nice half-circle of soft comfortable armchairs. There were three people sitting in them, leaning back, relaxed, clad in simplistic blue uniforms – they didn’t look like guards, more like assistants.

‘Good evening, Mr Shin, good evening, Hawk,’ the central woman greeted politely. ‘Leader Jeon is in his room. But first – you know the formalities...’

She inclined her head to the side. Her half-smile half-frown was clearly saying: _I don’t want to do this as much as you don’t, but it’s a necessity._ Yooncheol nodded. He glanced over his shoulder and said quietly:

‘Stand in line.’

Sangwon shrugged and obeyed, and the others followed suit. The woman counted them, moving her lips slightly. Sangwon knew what she was checking. Shin Yooncheol, Yu Sangdo the Hawk, four draftees. There were six people she had to let in, and six people she was planning to let out. As she examined them carefully, seemingly memorizing their clothes and faces, she nodded, satisfied.

‘Alright. You may proceed.’

Sangdo hurried forward before Yooncheol, barely letting her finish the phrase. He passed the three assistants, who had already forgotten about them and engaged in their interrupted conversation, and stopped in front of the wall to the right, having just passed one of the bookshelves. He placed his hand onto the wall, and as Sangwon came closer he noticed that the wall had an indent for a hand, just like those on the doors. It gave a clicking sound and gave in, forming a rectangle of a door and opening to the inside – just like the entrance into the game, back then – how long ago was it?..

Sangdo walked in first, not looking back, and Sangwon hurried to follow. He knew what he had to do, even if Sangdo in all his worries seemed to have forgotten.

Immediately as he walked in, he was blinded by a bright blue flash. He reached to cover his eyes with his hand involuntarily, but in a moment  the light was already gone. Sangwon blinked fiercely and rubbed his eyes.

‘Oh, excuse me,’ the familiar, lively voice said. ‘I was practicing. One has to put all of his efforts and every free moment to practice his magic. What news are you bringing, gentlemen?’

No one answered, and Sangwon realized they were waiting for him. He almost felt all of the stares on him as he lowered his hands, and finally managed to open his eyes. As he looked in front of himself, he saw Hojoon.

The first thing he noticed was that Hojoon looked exactly like some royalty from a classicist painting. He had his breast stuck out, and his gaze was confident and slightly condescending – as if he was looking down to them, despite actually looking up. His short, well-built frame was hugged by a blue dress uniform with shining silver buttons, embroidered and seemingly aristocratic - but the heavily decorated belts that went with it were tossed aside on a table in the corner, rejected. In this universe, too, Hojoon enjoyed fashion, but valued practicality. His soft leather boots had heels higher than those of the others – the trick of appearing taller was as old as the world itself. Hojoon locked his fingers behind his back, sticking his breast even further forward, and his stare jibbed into Sangwon. Sangwon cleared his throat.

‘I am the news,’ he said simply. _If the process is always the same, why not have fun about it?_

Hojoon took a sharp step back and almost fell, but grasped at the edge of the tabletop right on time.

‘Sa- Sangwonie?!’ he muttered. ‘Oh God.’

And he reached his hand to his temple, hissing. Sangwon frowned. He didn't expect that kind of a reaction.

‘Hojoonie, are you okay?’

Sangdo took a wide step towards him, but Hojoon was already straightening, wincing and blinking.

‘Oh God… I will never get used to so many memories returning at once,’ he managed, and Sangwon felt his heart sting at the words.

‘I’m sorry you need to,’ he said softly.

‘Hojoonie, we got trouble!’ Sangdo called, wringing his hands. ‘Sanggyunie, you ordered to start torturing Sanggyunie!’

Hojoon rubbed his forehead.

‘Oh shit, I did...’ he muttered, looking around, as if not recognizing the room. ‘Goodness gracious, oh my oh my, oh... – Holy Jesus on the rocket!’

His voice grew into that shout, and he straightened sharply, eyes square.

‘You need to get him out,’ Sangdo pleaded, but Hojoon shoved him away as he was already striding towards the door.

‘You all, wait here!’ he ordered. ‘I’ll be right back.’

He pressed his hand to the indent in the wall, pushed the door open, and stormed out. The door slowly closed behind his back, leaving the boys in startled silence.

* * *

 

The stillness didn't last long. Sangwon exchanged glances with Yooncheol, then with Byungjoo. They shrugged at each other. Little by little, everyone began to stir.

‘Does… that door not have a real direction?’ Byungjoo asked, at last. ‘I mean, is it constructed so that whoever opens it doesn’t have to pull?’

‘About right,’ Yooncheol nodded.

‘What kind of magic did Hojoon even practice here?’ Sangwon asked, looking at the walls of the room. They were smooth, made of the same dark stone as everything here.

‘Self-defense,’ Yooncheol explained, coming up to Hojoon’s table and perching himself up on his hands to sit atop it.

Sangwon frowned.

‘Wouldn’t stuff be broken around here, in that case?..’

‘He aimed at the wall,’ Yooncheol shrugged. ‘These walls absorb magic, so that accidental or inaccurate hits don’t ruin anything.’

Sangwon raised his eyebrows.

‘Wow...’

Sangdo glanced at the wall with the indent with vexation. He seemed ashamed of his loud despair just moments ago. He walked past the table and kicked it so hard that Yooncheol jumped on the tabletop.

‘Ouch!’

Sangdo gave out a heavy sigh.

‘Sorry.’

He perched himself up on his hands to sit down beside Yooncheol.

‘He-ey,’ Yooncheol called. ‘Come on, what’s the matter?’

Sangdo looked away.

‘I hate being helpless,’ he said quietly.

Hansol sighed, coming up to them.

‘I know,’ he said soothingly. ‘You can let it go. We need to focus on how we will _not_ be helpless further on. We’re not yet done here.’

Sangdo glanced at him and gave a little smile.

‘Thanks,’ he said, reaching out and petting Hansol’s hair.

Hansol pulled a face, but smiled back.

‘What do we have left to do here?’ Sangdo asked, looking round the others. ‘Meet up with Sehyuk?’

‘Basically,’ Jiho replied, leaning his back onto the wall across the room. ‘And avoid the attack that is planned as a nice little surprise for the Magicians here.

Sangdo raised his eyebrows.

‘What?..’

‘We probably need to wait for Hojoon to elaborate,’ Sangwon reminded, crossing his arms on his chest.

Sangdo shook his head, looking down at his knees.

‘Oh.' He chewed on his lips for a while before daring: 'Look... do you guys think… Sanggyunie was supposed to know that?’

Sangwon hemmed. As he looked up, his stare jibbed into Yooncheol’s. They exchanged meaningful looks.

‘He did,’ Sangwon said. 'We found out from him, actually.'

Sangdo licked his lips.

‘Wow... this just adds to the picture.'

'What picture?' Hansol asked, peeking into Sangdo's face.

'I can’t shake the feeling that he’s… strange,’ Sangdo confessed. ‘He seemed distant, and he didn’t really wanna talk… hell, I could count all the words he said to me on fingers of one hand!’

Sangwon sighed.

‘It’s not just your impression,’ he said slowly. ‘He’s… he’s being incredibly weird. He actually deigned to talk to me, and what he said was… eerie, honestly.’

‘What did he say?’

Sangwon licked his lips. He wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing. But the desperate urge to share the heavy thoughts nibbling at his brain won.

‘He told me that we would all be alright in every way each one of us wants to be,’ he said, quietly. ‘I mean, now that I say it, it doesn’t really sound all that menacing...’

‘Well, but it does,’ Jiho remarked. ‘And let me just remind you that he told you he was taking you to the drafting board and walked you instead in a completely opposite direction.’

Sangdo looked up at Jiho and a line appeared between his eyebrows.

‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘What do you think he’s up to?’

Jiho didn’t have time to reply. The wall parted as the door appeared, and Hojoon walked in, followed by Sanggyun – _Lieutenant Kim,_  if there was anything left of the man known as Lieutenant Kim.

Sanggyun’s nose was dislocated and his right hand, which he cradled at his chest, was a bloody mess. The door closed behind his back, and he visibly shuddered. His stare as he looked around at the guys gathered in the room was that of a cornered animal.

Hojoon glanced around, and his look stopped at Yooncheol. He raised a pointing finger.

‘Yooncheol! Quick, you gotta heal him.’

Yooncheol was already standing on his feet, his face a look of concern.

‘Sanggyun, let me see.’

Sanggyun didn’t move, but Yooncheol wasn't waiting. He came close and held his hands out. Sanggyun stepped back. His back touched the wall where the door was moments ago. Sangwon caught Yooncheol wince.

‘Oh goodness… I knew they were brutal, but this… they were supposed to heal him after this, right?’

Hojoon nodded, although Yooncheol wasn’t even looking at him.

‘Yeah, right. And then continue.’

Yooncheol gave out a little pained groan. He touched Sanggyun’s hand carefully with his fingertips.

‘How did you manage to get him out?’ he asked.

‘I told them I needed him for a private talk,’ Hojoon shrugged. ‘They didn’t really question my orders…’

‘Wouldn’t have worked on the Technician side,’ Jiho remarked sarcastically.

Hojoon hemmed.

‘Well, but we aren’t on the Technician side now.’

‘Sehyuk is,’ Byungjoo reminded. ‘Or at least he was when we left.’

Sanggyun hissed loudly as Yooncheol’s hands glowed a soft blue. Yooncheol shook his head, his face a look of pain.

‘Ugh… I know, I know.’

Sanggyun gave a quiet roar. Yooncheol closed his eyes.

‘They were a little too quick.'

Hojoon sighed.

‘My bad. I wasn’t yet fetched. Revenge, you know. Lieutenant Kim was part of killing a lot of Magicians – and I mean, like, _a lot._ A fuckton.’

Sanggyun gave a loud sigh.

‘I’m not being bitchy,’ Hojoon hurried to remark. ‘I’m telling you, I wasn’t yet fetched.’

A loud groan escaped Sanggyun’s chest, quickly reduced to a pained sob. He jerked his hand back, shaking it violently, as if trying to brush off the pain. Yooncheol shook his head regretfully.

‘That was cruel as fuck. I’m sorry, Sanggyun.’

‘Is okay, thank,’ Sanggyun hissed, rubbing his natural hand with the metal fingertips.

‘Want me to fix your nose for you?’

Sanggyun shook his head fiercely, stepping aside quickly.

‘No. I’m fine.’

Yooncheol nodded, raising his hands and taking a step back.

‘Alright. I understand.’

‘Listen,’ Sangwon made his presence known. ‘We have stuff to do. Hojoon, I’ll get straight to the news. You have a surprise attack planned on you, right about when you leave the base to go home. And not just a simple assassination, you know, but a huge-ass bombing.’

Hojoon took a deep breath – and exhaled slowly. He pressed up his lips and remained silent. Sangwon waited patiently, letting the news sink in.

‘This is why we’re coming without Sehyuk,’ Jiho said. ‘He stayed to try and delay the attack. He promised to meet up with us here when he can, but now that I think about it I have no idea how he means to do that.’

Hojoon shook his head, frowning slightly.

‘That dumbass,’ he muttered. ‘Okay, I see how he can get _in_ here, - the guy was once a pretty good magician, after all, - but I absolutely can’t see a way how he can get _out_ of his own side, escaping his generals. Those are beasts, I know firsthand...’

‘Sanggyunie, watch out!’ Hansol’s voice warned out of the blue.

Sangwon turned to him, - and followed his stare to the wall which Sanggyun was standing by. It cracked open, forming a door, and Yooncheol shoved Sanggyun away right on time before the door opened to the inside a little more violently than usual. A winded woman was standing at the door, her feet wide apart, and her hair dishevelled, as if she had only just stopped running.

‘Leader Jeon!’ she called. ‘The guards caught a man at the entrance to the base. They say he either shapeshifted into Mayor Park Sehyuk, or his shapeshifting failed, revealing him to be Mayor Park Sehyuk. We are awaiting your orders!’

Sangwon glanced at Hojoon and almost heard his heart hit the floor and shatter. His bloodless face was more eloquent than words.

‘Where is he?’ Hojoon forced out, in a fallen voice.

‘They brought him to the base and secured the gate.’

Hojoon took a wide step towards the door, his eyes sparkled sickly.

‘ _Where_ at the base?!’

‘At the prison,’ the woman frowned. ‘Of course he is.’

‘Tell them to get him out immediately!’ Hojoon shouted. ‘Run now! I’ll be right after you! Run!!!’

The woman went visibly pale, bowed, turned, and hurried away. Hojoon turned to the others in the room and grabbed the door, preventing it from closing.

‘Why are you staring, dumbasses?!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you not know what this means?! Sehyuk is here, his shapeshifting failed, and the bombs will fall any second now!’

With that, he shoved the door and stormed out. Sangwon didn’t want to wait for him. As he rushed for the door, he grabbed Sanggyun’s hand – just to be sure that Sanggyun didn’t leave them. He barely noticed the others take off as well at the edge of his field of vision – Sangdo soared up into the air right away.

* * *

 

They ran through the corridors like a storm.

‘Hurry up! Hide! We’re attacked!’ Hojoon shouted to the right and to the left, before mercilessly shoving people away, clearing the way for himself. Frightened Magicians pressed into the walls, letting them pass. As Sangwon glanced over his shoulder, he noticed them running quickly, all in the same direction – probably to a shelter. The base had to have shelters, he thought. Or at least he prayed.

At the door of the prison, Hojoon quickly scattered the little crowd. He was aiming for its center – and only when the Magicians all stepped back did Sangwon see Sehyuk.

Sehyuk was a miserable sight. He rushed to Hojoon immediately and grabbed his shoulders.

‘Hojoon, quick!’ he cried. ‘You gotta hide! They figured me out, and the zeppelins have already ascended! Run for the shelter, you hear me?!’

His hair was dishevelled, one of his sleeves was barely holding together with the jacket, his clothes were bloody and dusty. Hojoon took a few deep, loud breaths, and grabbed his wrist. His furious stare turned to the surrounding Magicians.

‘Why are you still here?!’ he cried. ‘We’re being fucking attacked! There will be bombing!’

The Magicians seemingly woke up. Faint gasps sounded over the small crowd, and some started shuffling away. Hojoon wasn’t looking at them any more. He grabbed Sehyuk’s hand and dragged him back, back, back. Sangwon had no choice but to follow.

‘Where are we going?!’ Byungjoo called from somewhere behind.

‘To a shelter!’ Hojoon called back. ‘You better fucking hurry!’

‘I didn’t know Sehyuk could shapeshift!’ Byungjoo called again, something like amusement sounding in his voice.

‘Anyone can!’ Sehyuk replied, smiling and panting. ‘But I’m fucking rusty!’

At that moment, Sanggyun’s wrist that Sangwon had been holding onto, almost involuntarily, jerked back – and managed to get free. Sangwon turned to look over his shoulder – and noticed Sanggyun’s brown back cutting through the blue crowd of Magicians hurrying for the shelter.

‘Sanggyun, no!’ Sangwon cried, and tears of impotent anger made his view blurry. He stumbled, but somebody grabbed his hand and drew him on – as he turned, he distinguished Hansol.

‘Sanggyun!!!’ Sangwon called, turning around, reaching vainly for his friend – Sanggyun was already gone from view. ‘Sanggyun, come back!!!’

There was a flash that blinded him, and a powerful force blew him right off his feet. He grasped at Hansol’s hand in his own – but as it came out of the white light, he understood, to his fright, that it wasn’t attached to anyone any more.

‘Hansolie!’ he cried, but there was no sound. And there came no sound of the explosion. There was a moment of pure pain as Sangwon felt his body fall apart into atoms. Briefly, he glimpsed the corridor they had been running through – and disfigured bodies in the air. Then, everything glitched out of existence, replaced by pitch blackness. Sangwon felt himself falling, and shut his eyes tightly, shaking his hand violently to get rid of the feeling of tiny lifeless fingers intertwined with his own.

_No!!!_

He hit something solid, all air left his lungs, he froze, and couldn’t inhale for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh finally! I delivered! Thank you all for sticking with me, and for all the messages of encouragement. I love you! I'm working on!


	7. Interlude. The group

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How to break, and how to give,  
> Betrayal taught us to forgive...
> 
> Jason Webley - Ways to Love

The darkness here was black. It wasn’t even the lack of light, the normal definition of darkness – it was darkness itself, that existed independently and regardless. It was still and solid, empty of anything existent, empty of anything at all, but not waiting to be filled. It was just an endlessly black space – or lack thereof, or maybe it was the nonexistence itself, being and not being at once, outside of space and time.

It was still for a second more. There was a glitch, and, in the dust of white light, Sangwon materialized, and stopped, with his sound existence, the independent emptiness of the blackness.

His fall wasn't long. The blackness shifted, adapting itself to the new conditions – dealing with this new  _existence_ in its core. Sangwon hit something solid, heaved and froze, trying to inhale.

The strength of the strike, amplified by the force of the explosion, shocked his body and left it incapable – malfunctioning – for a little while. But, more importantly, inside this pocket of nothingness, there was no air. The surroundings needed time to adapt. Something in the blackness shifted invisibly again, deciphering the signals of the body.

The shock was subsiding quickly. Sangwon strained and gasped for air – and air was there. He swallowed a mouthful – and broke out into a coughing fit. Right then, there was another glitch, and, with a loud yelp, Hansol appeared, high above Sangwon.

The blackness adapted quicker this time. The programme was learning quickly. Hansol hit the ground immediately, and then an arm sprang out of a glowing stump of his right shoulder, and the push was enough to send him rolling down. The invisible slope stopped just a little higher than Sangwon was. Hansol unravelled, and remained lying on his back, panting, struggling to return to his senses. Hojoon materialized in a moment, on Sangwon’s level – glitched into existence in a halo of while glow. His legs appeared a few seconds after his  torso , and his arms took a few seconds after that. His side - body was glowing just for a moment more, and finally Hojoon was whole. He remained unmoving, his eyes closed, the look on his face stern.

The collisions ended, and overall stillness of the black was restored. Sangwon sat up, shaking his head and blinking. He looked down at himself first thing, touching his legs and arms, searching for bumps, fractures, for dislocated bones. His body was fine. He pushed himself off the ground with his hands, and stood up to look around.

A big glowing cloud of dust glitched into existence with a loud whistle, and quickly gathered into two bodies – Sangdo and Sehyuk. They dropped half a metre down and remained sitting up high above all others, groaning and panting.

Sangwon offered Hansol a helping hand, which he accepted. He stood to his feet, still shaky, still seemingly on a step of stairs above Sangwon. His hand reached involuntarily to his right shoulder. He felt his right arm up and down, then looked at his fingers, moved them, twisted and turned right and left. Sangwon moved the fingers of his left hand uneasily, watching him.

‘Guys?!’

Sangwon and Hansol raised their heads simultaneously. Sangdo leaned over to look down at them.

‘What are you doing up there?’ Hansol called – a stupid question, considering the situation.

Sangdo opened his mouth to say something, but his gaze roamed, and he noticed unmoving Hojoon lying down below him.

Sangdo changed in the face. He gasped and felt around him for something to climb – to no avail.

‘How do I get down?!’ he called desperately.

Sangwon bit his lower lip and looked down. He seemed to be standing on something solid – _the ground,_ he assumed, - but Sangdo was sitting too high up to possibly land safely. He wandered off towards where Sangdo was, to stand directly underneath him, and felt around for a wall, or at least something material. There was nothing.

Hansol stepped forward and back, thoughtfully, then shrugged, and jumped down to Sangwon’s level.

‘Maybe that platform you’re on moves on its own?’ he suggested, turning his face up.

Sangdo fidgeted uneasily, felt around himself – and seemingly found the edges, judging by the way he backed off. He shuddered, but stood up sharply, decisively.

‘Stand back!’ he called. ‘I’m gonna jump!’

‘Sangdo, don’t do that!’ Hansol called, alarmed, but Sangdo was already stepping back, his moves brisk and precise, calculating the run-up.

‘Sangdo, there must be another way down! Some ladder or whatever!’ Sangwon called, backing off, never taking his eyes off Sangdo.

‘If there is, the better!’ Sangdo replied, took another step back – and pushed himself forward. Step, step, step – he threw his arms out to the sides, like wings, and jumped.

Hansol squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. Sangwon gave a faint gasp. There was a split second of weightlessness, as Sangdo was hanging in the air, before gravity – or whatever it was – won, and he fell down, dropping his graceful, bird-like stance, and turning into a floundering sack of terror.

By some miracle he landed on his foot – and then slipped, yelped, stumbled back, dropped – and stopped, sitting down, rubbing his lower back. He was still high above Sangwon and Hansol, and his legs were resting diagonally, as if on some slope.

Sangwon raised his eyebrows.

‘Sangdo, are you alright?’ he called. ‘What’s there?’

Sangdo hissed, struggling to his feet.

‘There’s a staircase!’ he replied, surprise in his voice.

Hansol finally dared open his eyes and look up. Sangdo reached out with his foot, checking for another stair, then stepped down, and then once again, more confident ly – and hurried down the invisible stairs, down until he reached the  _ground_ , c alling out the name.

‘Hojoonie!’

He ran up to Hojoon and fell to his knees over his body .

‘Hojoonie, do you hear me?’

He pressed his ear to his chest, cu r sed under his breath, straightened, and found a vein on his neck with his fingertips.

‘How is he?’ Hansol called. Sangdo didn’t respond, but Hansol was already distracted by another flash of white light, marking the appearance of somebody else.

Yooncheol appeared under their feet – quite literally. He glitched in, glowing head to toe, with a gasp, rolled a few metres on, as if spat out of nowhere, growing back limbs as he went, and finally stopped, wincing and groaning in pain.

Sangwon hurried to jump back, not to fall right onto Yooncheol’s head, but the invisible flooring under his feet remained solid. A worried crease appeared between Hansol's brows. He knelt down and felt the ground around himself.

‘Yooncheol?’ he called, uncertainly.

Yooncheol huffed, and finally sat up, grasping at his head, squeezing it with his hands.

‘Ugh! Ah! Fu\- augh fuck!’

'Can you hear us?' Hansol asked, loudly, but still hesitantly.

‘Are you okay?’ Sangwon called from aside.

‘Relatively,’ Yooncheol managed, ignoring the first question. He took his ears between his fingers and thumbs, and massaged them as he looked up miserably. ‘Man, oh fuck…’

Hansol pressed  his palms onto the ground in front of himself – and almost fell as he found nothing to press on. He stumbled back with a surprised yelp.

‘Ugh, Sangdo, let go of me,’ another voice grunted, and Sangwon turned – to see Hojoon, sitting up, supported by Sangdo, surrounded by his agitated tenderness.

‘Are you alright? How are you feeling?’

Sangdo's questions showered Hojoon, but he ignored them. He  moved his arms and legs, trying them out. Thankfully, Sangdo didn’t even need his declaration.

‘You’re okay!’ he exhaled, before pulling Hojoon into a tight embrace.

Hojoon sighed, wrapping one arm around Sangdo, but his face was still grumpy, and his gaze distant. Sangwon sighed and looked away, to Hansol, who leaned over a newly-discovered hole, reaching his arm down to Yooncheol.

‘Here! Grab my hand!’

Yooncheol was already standing on his feet. Hansol’s hand was about the level of his face, but he wasn't looking at it. He reached up and found the edges of the hole – a little too high to push himself up all the way on his own. Sangwon shook his head.

‘You’re not gonna pull him out all by yourself.’

Hansol glanced over his shoulder and up at Sangwon. Sangwon  knelt down beside him and held his hand out, too.

‘Yooncheol, grab us,’ he suggested.

But Yooncheol was already trying the edges of the hole.

‘Be ready to catch me, okay?’ he smiled as he grabbed the invisible panel – and pushed himself up.

He managed to lash out far enough to have his chest firmly on the ground. His legs flailed as he struggled to stay on the upper level, but Hansol  had  already caught him by the underarms and pulled. Sangwon pushed him on by the waist, and finally, Yooncheol crawled onto their level entirely, sat up and shook himself.

‘Are you okay?’ Hansol asked softly.

Yooncheol nodded, sending him a little smile.

‘Absolutely. Just let me...’

He reached for the fastenings of the belts across his chest, and quickly slipped them open. Then, he shrugged the scabbard off with a sigh of relief, and moved his shoulders with visible ease.

‘Finally,’ he said.

Right after that was a flash of white light, and someone fell right onto Yooncheol’s head, screaming, sending him straight to the ground with all the force of his weight.

‘Guys, who’s there?’ Sehyuk’s voice called from above – he was climbing down only now, hesitating on the stairs.

Hansol was the first to return to his senses – maybe because he was almost unaffected by the falling man.

‘It’s Jiho!’ he replied, not turning to Sehyuk. ‘Come on, guys, help me push him away. Yooncheolie, hey, you alright?’

Yooncheol seemed very much alright, grunting angrily, struggling to push Jiho off himself. With a little help of Hansol and Jiho himself, however shocked and confused he was, Yooncheol managed to get free, and crawled back, hissing in pain.

‘This was totally meant to murder me!’ he called. ‘I’m telling you, this all is just to have me dead!’

Hansol knelt down beside him, patting his shoulder. Yooncheol glanced around, and, finding everyone busy with someone else, caught Hansol’s hand and squeezed it softly.

Sangwon helped Jiho sit up, to his heavy breathing and shudders.

‘Hey, man,’ he called, soothingly. ‘Hey. It’s alright. You’re whole. We’re all okay now.’

Jiho nodded quickly.

‘Yeah, whole _now_. Just a few secs ago, I wasn’t, and let me tell you, that was absolutely terrifying.’

‘You don’t say,’ Sangwon hemmed, rubbing his left hand on his trousers fiercely, as if something was on it. ‘But at least now we’re fine. Well… as fine as it can get in this game, I suppose.’

‘At least we are feeling okay, and not trying to figure out the puzzle of the next universe,’ Hojoon mused. He and Sangdo had come up to where Jiho had appeared and settled on the floor – the hole through which Yooncheol had climbed up had seemingly vanished altogether, with no intention of reappearing randomly. ‘Suppose this is really as fine as it gets.’

‘Might that be… the end of the game?’ Hansol called, hesitantly.

Hojoon chewed on his lip.

‘I wonder. After all, not all of us have got their universes yet.’

‘But has anyone said _everyone_ had to have one for the game to end?’ Sehyuk made his presence known, sitting down beside Sangdo.

Sangwon glanced at Hojoon, planting himself beside Jiho, making them all form an uneven  half- circle.

‘No one did, but I’d think it pretty logical,’ Hojoon shrugged.

‘Quite cruelly logical, but it is,’ Sangwon admitted, nodding to himself. He glanced around, taking in the faces of the boys.

‘We are still not all assembled,’ Yooncheol pointed out, moving closer to the others, inviting Hansol with him to close the circle.

‘We aren’t,’ Hojoon nodded. ‘But they should be quick.’

‘Should be,’ Sehyuk nodded, but shifted uneasily. ‘Byungjoo… wasn’t lagging behind… I think...’

Sangwon sighed deeply, wincing.

‘Byungjoo is gonna appear soon,’ he said, matter-of-factly, glancing at Sehyuk. ‘But Sanggyun… Sanggyun probably isn’t.’

‘Wh- what do you mean?’

Sangwon looked at Hojoon and met his bewildered stare.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t hear,’ Hansol replied, instead of Sangwon.

‘Hear what?’ Hojoon insisted, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.

Sangwon gave a loud, forced exhale.

‘When we were running to the shelter, he ran in the opposite direction,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t have been shock or a mistake. I...’ he hesitated, glancing at Hansol before deciding: ‘I was holding him by the hand. He pulled out and just… ran away.’

Jiho closed his eyes, blowing out a heavy breath. Sehyuk slapped his hips.

‘What?! We were running for our lives, - or for our deaths, I don’t even care – and that fuck just… deserted us?!’

Sangwon knitted his eyebrows, his face more pained than angry.

‘Don’t call him that...’

‘No?!’ Sehyuk exclaimed, rising sharply. Hojoon reached a hand out to try and hold him in place, but there was no holding him back. ‘What else do I fucking call him?!’

Sangwon winced again, lowering his head.

‘You –‘ Sehyuk raised a pointing finger, in a gesture of accusation, - ‘you suspected _me_ of not doing my best to join you!’ his breath hitched in righteous rage. ‘I – I actually ran all the way to the Magician side – just to join y’all! I was so out of breath I fucking _physically hurt,_ Sangwon, I used up all my strength to keep shapeshifted for as long as I could, I risked _death –_ from both parties, if you care, – and you _doubted_ me. I risked my fucking _life_ for you guys, and you still manage to be _that_ ungrateful?!’

His tirade was interrupted by a gasp, a glitch, and a flash, and out of nowhere, Byungjoo appeared, a few steps away from the circle of the others, growing back limbs as he fell to the ground.

His fall ended about the level of the imaginary floor they were sitting on, and just as he hit the solid surface he let out a high-pitched wail, and then another one, and then another.

Byungjoo's sounds weren't as alarming as they were annoying. But you could almost hear Sehyuk’s heart fall down. He crossed the circle in wide strides, jumped over Hansol’s head, and rushed to fall to his knees beside Byungjoo.

‘Hey,’ he called. ‘Hey. You okay? You okay??? Answer me!’

Byungjoo sat up, shivering violently, and looked around, all confusion and fear. Sehyuk grasped his shoulders and shook him.

'Byungjoo!'

Only then did Byungjoo finally acknowledge his frantic calls. He turned and focused on Sehyuk’s face, squinting slightly.

‘Sehyuk?..’

‘Are you alright?’ Sehyuk demanded, impatiently.

Byungjoo looked down at himself and moved his shoulders.

‘Probably am…’

He still sounded hesitant, but as he felt his body, whole and alright, he straightened, adopting a careless facade. As he looked around and noticed the others, he squinted harder.

‘Man, I can’t see shit,’ he complained in a few seconds. ‘How many of you are here?’

‘Eight,’ Sangwon replied grimly.

‘Who are we waiting for?’

‘No one, I guess.’

Sangdo shot him a murderous glance, making a gesture in the air, as if he wanted to strike.

‘Don’t you dare say that. We’re waiting for Sanggyun.’

Sehyuk helped Byungjoo to his feet to guide him to the others. Byungjoo frowned.

‘Why the fuck would you say that we aren’t?’

Sehyuk huffed.

‘The fucker deserted us,’ he dropped, sitting Byungjoo down beside Yooncheol. With that, he plopped down between him and Sangdo, and cast Byungjoo another worried glance.

‘He ran away,’ Sangwon explained, sending Sehyuk a heavy look. ‘Right when we were running for the shelter, he took his hand away from mine and ran in the opposite direction. I don’t know how far he had got, and whether he died when we all did. I’m pretty sure he wanted to get away from us.

Byungjoo pressed up his lips, looking down.

‘Man… we fucked up big time.’

‘ _We_ fucked up?’

Sangwon sent Sehyuk another look, but Sehyuk wasn’t looking at him. Byungjoo nodded slowly.

‘Yeah, we did. Do you guys even remember the fairytale universe?’

Everyone frowned and glanced at each other.

‘Well… I guess we do,’ Hojoon said, slowly, carefully. ‘I mean, everything is pretty messed up in my head right now, I don’t know about you guys...’

There was a series of replying nods.

‘Mine too,’ Jiho confessed, rubbing his palms together.

‘Everyone’s, I think,’ Yooncheol shrugged. ‘We’ve had too many fake memories stuffed in our heads. But I guess we can all recall the outline.’

‘Don’t recall the outline,’ Byungjoo sighed. ‘Recall yourselves.’

There was a blinding flash, brighter than all of the previous ones – and the blackness surrounding the boys filled with a roaring scream, almost inhuman in its pained desperation. A vortex of white light appeared in the midst of black nothingness, and spat out a floundering body. Sanggyun landed onto his hands and knees, and jumped to his feet immediately, not even looking at the others. He rushed straight back to the vortex – but it had already imploded, leaving nothing for him.

‘No-o!’ Sanggyun slammed his fists against the invisible wall where the vortex had been. ‘No, no!!! Let me out! Let me out of here!!!’

The immaterial walls of blackness gave no sound as Sanggyun’s fists fell on them with a mighty force. The boys watched him quietly, intently, slowly lowering their hands from where they had raised them to protect their eyes. Sanggyun slammed the wall one last time – and then pressed his forehead into it, and his cries were suddenly replaced by helpless sobs.

‘Please let me out,’ he managed, quietly. ‘I don’t wanna be here...’

Sehyuk cleared his throat, the first one to break the overall silence. Sanggyun turned around sharply, and pressed his back into the wall, eyes roaming across faces, never stopping on anyone. His face was red and distorted.

'Sanggyun?..' Byungjoo asked, squinting hard.

His question remained unanswered.

‘So, you still _did_ appear,’ Sehyuk stated, slowly, caustically. ‘Appeared, while not wanting to _be here,_ huh? Appeared, despite doing your best to run away and desert us. Well, guess this is your fate, after all!’

‘Sehyuk.’

Sehyuk threw Sangwon a glance over his shoulder.

‘What? I’m not gonna be silent. This fucker decided to run away. He knew there was a chance of him ending up with us anyway, but he risked it. Means he was prepared to face the consequences. Right, Sanggyunie?’

His voice, as he turned slowly back to Sanggyun, was menacingly sweet. Sanggyun knitted his eyebrows, but said nothing, challenging Sehyuk with his heavy stare.

‘Sanggyunie, what happened, really?’ Sangdo asked, quietly. ‘Did we… do anything wrong?’

Sanggyun sniffed, knitting his eyebrows. His stare jibbed into Sangdo, making him shrink.

‘You don’t have any guesses, huh?’ he dropped, straightening.

Sangdo looked around helplessly, but no one was looking at him. All stares were locked on Sanggyun.

‘Do tell us,’ Sangwon said, hesitantly.

Something changed in Sanggyun’s face as his stare jumped from Sangdo to Sangwon. Clenching his fists, he took a step towards them. As he spoke, his voice, broken just moments before, sounded unexpectedly powerful.

‘You want me to tell you. You want to know what you did wrong, huh? You want to know where you fucked up so badly so that your nice background boy is angry now! So that he doesn’t wanna stay back and aid your character development, being the ultimate sidekick! You know what, _guys_? I’ve had quite enough of being a sidekick. I’ve had enough of being used and left behind. I’ve had quite fucking enough, and you’ll have to find yourselves another butt of the jokes! Use Yooncheol there, he doesn’t really mind. He doesn’t mind anything, for that matter!’

The corners of Yooncheol’s mouth twitched in a brief look of pain, as if he got slapped on the back of his head.

‘What’d _I_ do?’ he muttered, looking down.

Sanggyun, it turned out, heard him quite well.

‘Oh, you? Not much, Cheolie, not much at all! Just like everyone else. How easy it is, you guys, to sweep an entire person under a rug, huh? All it takes is ignoring that person, time after time after time. Not much at all, am I right?’

‘Are you gonna pull the receipts, or are you gonna be vague about it?’ Hojoon asked, straightening, knitting his eyebrows. ‘Because, you know, maybe someone here understands what you mean, but hot me.’

A grin cracked Sanggyun’s face, painted all over with a look of disbelief.

'Seriously?! Fucking seriously?'

'I understand,' Byungjoo called from behind, leaning back, his stare at Sanggyun weary. 'Do you want to say it yourself, or do you want me to?'

Sanggyun hemmed sarcastically.

'Well, let's hear out what you have to say.'

Byungjoo took in a deep breath, gathering his thoughts together.

‘Okay, fine. We ignored you. We didn't let you be the hero in your own universe, we left you behind in all we did. We decided everything for you, and never left you any choice.'

'We is who?' Sanggyun asked, caustically, but Byungjoo didn't seem to notice the implication in his voice. He chewed on his lips, looking down.

'Well, I... was the last fetched,  back in your universe . Maybe someone else had to admit to this wrong if you mean it...'

'Someone else?!'

Byungjoo flinched, glancing up at Sanggyun as he slapped his hips. Sanggyun's face reddened in rage.

'Someone else?! You feel alright on your high horse, huh, Beej? Right the next fucking universe after the fairytale you just did all you could to pretend I wasn't there all day long! I fucking sat around like  an idiot, and no one even  _tried_ to talk to me!  No one even bothered to check if I was still there! You only care when you can use me for something – like to take you to some place and then go back to the background!’

‘You didn’t even take us to the place,’ Sangwon made his presence known. ‘You took us someplace else _on purpose_ , despite knowing _that_ place was dangerous.’

‘I hoped I would die,’ Sanggyun snapped, quietly and furiously. ‘ _I_ was Lieutenant Kim, _I_ was the important person, for once, and the one they wanted dead!’

Ringing silence fell. Sehyuk swallowed hard.

‘You _knew_ they didn’t want you dead,’ he muttered, his voice hollow. ‘They wanted to torture you, is all. And you _knew_ Hojoon was the Magician leader, and as soon as Sangwon fetched him, he would free you! It’s only a miracle you ran into _Sangdo’s_ squad...’

‘No,’ Sangwon interrupted, suddenly.

Sehyuk glanced over his shoulder.

‘Huh?’

‘It’s no miracle,’ Sangwon remarked, thoughtfully.

All the stares were immediately on Sangwon.

‘What the fuck do you mean?’ Sanggyun called.

‘The rules,’ Sangwon said, looking up at him. ‘The rules of this fucking game say that the choice of our parts is never random. The hero of the day is supposed to meet everyone during the day, with a possibility to recognize them.’

‘What are you implying?’ Sehyuk asked, quietly, frowning.

‘Everything was scripted,’ Sangwon replied, pushing himself lightly off the ground to stand up. ‘Everything was scripted and decided for us all the way. Think about it. If Sanggyun never strayed off his course, how would we have even met Sangdo? Jiho knew that the place was dangerous, he wouldn’t have taken us there. And when we would have reached the Magician base, it would be too late to look for him, with the bombing and all...’

‘You can choke on your stupid theory!’ Sanggyun spat out, but his breath hitched, and he broke out into a wheezing coughing fit.

Sangwon took a deep breath, in and out. His fists clenched tightly, but his face didn’t change. There was a long pause. Everybody waited in strain, the silence only broken by Sanggyun’s loud, strangled cough.

‘Okay, fine,’ Sangwon said, at last. ‘I can choke. But hear me out.’

Sanggyun coughed one last time and sent him a heavy stare. Sangwon bore it and took another deep breath.

‘It’s not even my theory,’ he said, slowly. ‘It’s the rules that, _I assume_ , that chick explained to us all before the beginning. The characters we play in the universes are all connected. We’re supposed to be able to meet each other, even if for a few minutes.’

He fidgeted with the buttons on his jacket.

‘Now think about it: if Sanggyun never strayed off the way to the drafting board, we wouldn’t have met Sangdo. Now, if Sanggyun wasn’t mad at us and willing to run away from us, he wouldn’t have strayed. And if Sanggyun hadn’t been given a role that is almost useless next to the others…’ he bit back a lopsided grin, ‘I mean, when you have strong guys, smart guys, and magic guys at your service, sickly formal royalty can hardly be useful, except providing us with a cool dragon, without whom we wouldn’t have got anywhere, and who just happened to be Byungjoo... ahem. What I’m saying is, if he hadn’t been given such a role, his anger probably wouldn’t surface.’

Sangdo stood up sharply. Sangwon trailed off – and in a second, all eyes were on Sangdo. Sanggyun narrowed his eyes at him, ready to fight anything he was about to say.

‘I’m sick of this,’ Sangdo said, hollowly. A line between his furrowed brows deepened. ‘You all just play smart, and you aren’t even _thinking_ of the thing that’s actually necessary.’

He crossed the space between his and Sanggyun in bold, confident steps, then stopped, looking Sanggyun right in the eye – and then lowered down to his knees in front of him. His eyes sparkled as he looked up.

‘Sanggyunie...’ he coarsed out, his voice shaky. ‘Sanggyunie, I’m so sorry. We all have our heads so deep up our asses we don’t even notice anything except our own problems. I just need you to know that we don’t want you to leave us. It’s dangerous, and we don’t want to lose you. We just don’t – don’t know how to stop you!’

His voice grew – and broke. He sniffed and turned his face away, wiping tears clumsily with his entire palm.

‘Forgive us,’ he muttered.

An uncomfortable, astounded silence fell. There was stillness – for a few seconds more. The boys sitting on the ground began exchanging glances.

‘Sangdo, come on, not your dramatic shit again,’ Sanggyun tried, but faltered, and looked down to the ground.

No one said a word. The silence was broken only by Sangdo’s little sniffles. Sanggyun huffed and bit his lips.

‘I mean, come on,’ he tried again, ‘get up, Sangdo! It’s not like it’s anyhow your fault.’

‘Yes it is,’ Sangdo muttered. ‘I mean, I’m so caught up in my own thoughts, it’s like I’m a thousand miles away!’

‘It’s not you!’ Sanggyun exclaimed, slapping his hips in frustration. ‘Sangdo, for fuck’s sake! It’s those motherfuckers Sehyuk and Sangwon! I can’t stand them measuring dicks over shit!’

‘Oh.’

The voice was calm – an intonation of somebody who’d just been told he had taken somebody else’s cup of tea. Everybody turned to Hojoon, but his face was calm – as if he was observing something of purely scientific interest.

‘I mean, aren’t we over it?’ Sangwon called, uncertainly. ‘I thought we were. I mean, I apologized, I actually admitted to having been wrong.’

A little smirk tugged at the corner of Byungjoo’s lips.

‘You might be over it,’ he said, ‘but Sehyuk isn’t.’

This time everyone looked at Sehyuk, and that was more than Sehyuk could bear.

‘Who are _you_ to say?!’ he snapped. ‘It’s not like I was protecting _your_ good name while you were absent, right? I got mad on _your_ behalf, and you have to at least give me that!’

‘Oh?!’ Byungjoo narrowed his eyes arrogantly. ‘On _my_ behalf? Maybe you should let me get offended on _my own_ behalf?!’

‘Guys.’ Hojoon’s serious voice interrupted. ‘We don’t need to make this worse. Calm down and we’ll sort this out,’ he paused for a second. ‘And Sangdo, stand up already.’

Sanggyun held a hand out, and helped Sangdo to his feet.

‘Come on, man,’ he muttered quietly, ‘you don’t need to humiliate yourself like that.’

Sangdo sniffed.

‘We all fucked up, Sanggyunie...’

‘If someone did well, it was you,’ Sanggyun reassured, patting Sangdo’s back.

Sangdo shook his head.

‘I didn’t.’

Sanggyun softly pushed Sangdo towards the others, taking tiny steps with him.

‘Sangdo, _please_ ,’ Yooncheol called, almost desperately.

At the sound of his voice, Sangdo raised his head, then straightened quickly.

‘Right,’ he said, quietly. ‘I need to get myself together. I’m not helping.’

‘For fuck’s sake, you don’t _need_ to be constantly helping!’ Sanggyun exclaimed, pushing away from him. ‘Sangdo, you’re doing alright! Better than most of the others anyway!’

‘Guys,’ Hojoon said again, in a voice non-questioning. ‘Let’s start with something, alright? Sanggyun, Sangdo, you wanna sit with us?’

Sangdo nodded quickly and lowered to the ground beside the others. Sanggyun didn’t reply. He sat down a little further away, outside the circle, but his stare running across faces was intent. Hojoon nodded to himself and looked to Sehyuk.

‘Okay,’ he said, in a voice of a judge calling out the defense. ‘What I wanna say is – you’re both on the wrong here, guys. I’m not gonna touch Sangwon now, because he really _did_ apologize, and I know he meant it. But you two – especially you, Sehyuk, - need to know better.’

‘And who exactly are _you_ to tell me what to do?’ Sehyuk snapped, but by the way he crossed his arms on his chest it was evident that his confidence gave

‘I’m not telling you what to do, I’m trying to get us all to a fucking agreement,’ Hojoon said, on a long, loud exhale, his annoyance slipping in his tone. ‘Look, I’m gonna be straight here. Byungjoo is sorta wrong, because, you know, when others try to protect you as people talk behind your back, you should at least not give them shit for that. Byungjoo, I was there, you were totally unable to be offended _on your own behalf_ right about then, okay?’

Byungjoo cleared his throat and looked away.

‘But then, Sehyuk, if you _really_ want to emphasize how you’re older and wiser than us all,’ Hojoon’s nose crinkled involuntarily, ‘then you probably should have chosen a little different way of discussion, instead of picking fights just like your _dongsaengs_ did, am I right or am I wrong?’

‘Are you implying that I needed to be _wiser_ and shut up?’

‘I’m _implying_ that you could have talked some sense into them, if you really did want them to stop laughing at Byungjoo, - and maybe at yourself.’

‘Sangwon called him a traitor,’ Sanggyun made his presence known. ‘I don’t think there was anything Sehyuk could do.’

‘Whom?’ Yooncheol’s voice called from aside.

‘Sehyuk,’ Sanggyun replied, leaning back and looking away, vexation on his face.

Sehyuk’s stare jibbed into Sangwon, and his face twitched.

‘Yeah, right,’ he said, expressly sweetly, but the vibration of his voice was threatening.

Sangwon knitted his eyebrows.

‘Why did _this_ have to surface?’ he asked in annoyance, glancing at Sanggyun. ‘I said I’m sorry for saying that, you know. And I meant it, yes I did. I mean, I can be pretty… brash, but you guys know me for long enough to make sure I know better than to mean real harm. Right?’

He looked around, searching for support in the faces of the others.

‘I do know,’ Hojoon shrugged. ‘Sehyuk, if you haven’t figured, he’s waiting for your response.’

Sehyuk met Sangwon’s look and squinted, challenging.

‘You think I’m stupid, right?’ he half-asked, half-stated.

Sangwon started to roll his eyes, but stopped just on time, shutting his eyelids.

‘Look,’ he said, visibly restraining himself. ‘I don’t think you’re _stupid._ I just think you’re irresponsible – I’m sorry, but if we’re all being honest here. I think you’re good at certain things, and bad at certain others. And I think your fighting for dominance with everyone is getting in our way – I mean, with everyone, but especially Hojoon.’

Now it was Hojoon’s turn to frown.

‘What do you even mean?’ he asked, perplexed.

‘Yeah, and tell me, too, if you mind!’ Sehyuk called, his voice trembly and uncertain.

Sangwon sighed and opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Byungjoo spoke instead of him.

‘He means that you’re not really a leader, Sehyuk,’ he said, quietly. ‘I’m sorry, but everyone thinks so.’

Silence fell. Sehyuk drew in a breath, as if to say something – but at the same time as if he had been kicked in the chest. Sangwon shut his eyes tighter, expecting a loud objection.

Sehyuk closed his mouth and looked down. His stance dropped, his back hunched, and he was suddenly not Mayor Park, whose clothes he was still wearing, but simply Sehyuk, small and wiry, - and sad.

‘No, you’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m not. I’m not a leader, I’m not responsible. I’m just terrified. Not for myself – no, I mean, for myself, too, but… for you guys, more than anything. I just… want you to be fine, and I don’t know how to do that… but I have to.’

Everybody listened to him in silence. Even Sanggyun raised his head and looked at him seriously. Sehyuk started poking the blackness of the ground with his finger.

‘Why are you so quiet?’ he asked, not looking up, and his voice gave, breaking into high pitch. ‘I can’t stand you being so quiet, you guys. I can’t stand to talk like this, when everyone just _listens,_ and doesn’t answer.’

He shut his eyes tight, but the tears have already escaped, dropping down to the ground and disappearing. Byungjoo pressed up his lips.

‘I-… I’m sorry,’ he said, quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to… I didn’t expect...’

He trailed off and looked away, biting onto both his lips.

‘No, don’t be sorry,’ Sehyuk replied, quietly, still not looking up. ‘You’re right. You were right all along. I’m so sorry. I delayed us all on our way. If it wasn’t for me, we’d be out of this stupid game long ago...’

‘I don’t think so,’ Hojoon said, evenly. ‘I don’t think anyone of us is to blame for us staying here. There is more than one problem to solve, you know. I just wanna know… Sehyukie, is that true that you see me as a rival?’

Sehyuk looked up and at him and shook his head.

‘No. No, not a rival. As a… bigger person. A better person, Hojoonie. As an actual leader.’

‘Why do we need a leader?’ Hojoon asked, squinting at him. ‘Who invented that concept? Why can’t we all work together as a team of equals?’

To this, Sehyuk didn’t have an answer. He looked down again, and started poking the ground even more fiercely. Hojoon looked over his head, and his gaze jibbed into Sanggyun – and met his stare back.

‘Why can’t we?’ Hojoon repeated. ‘I just think… I might be wrong, but I _think_ it’s this hierarchy that leads us to situations like the one we are in. I mean, no one in this team is useless! We are nine people, and everyone is good for something. Every one is a part of this game, and everyone has a role – maybe it’s little, but it’s crucial. Sanggyunie, I’m sorry. We were all stupid. We didn’t mean to… swipe you under a rug. I mean, I hope you understand us. We’re all caught up in a lot of problems – inside ourselves and in between. I’m sure you have some questions of your own, too.’

Sanggyun nodded.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I do.’

‘We… we _care_ ,’ Hojoon said, and the word clearly took him some effort. ‘I mean, I care, I don’t know about the others.’

‘I do,’ Sehyuk said, voice still trembly. ‘And I’m sorry. I was a jerk.’

‘You were,’ Byungjoo said quietly.

Sehyuk's shoulders hunched even lower. He shrank, and then he sniffed and covered his face with a crook of his elbow. Byungjoo gave out a quiet ‘oh’. And then:

‘Sehyuk!’

He crossed the gap between them on all fours, awkwardly, and grabbed Sehyuk’s shoulders.

‘Hey,’ he called. ‘Hey!’

All the others moved aside, giving them way, but Byungjoo paid no attention. He was trying to peek into Sehyuk’s face, but Sehyuk had turned away.

‘You’re right,’ he forced out. ‘You have every right to hate me, I see now. Every right to be distrustful. To be mad at me. You’re right about all that. I’m a jerk!’

‘No-no-no,’ Byungjoo exhaled. ‘No-no-no-no!’ He threw his arms around Sehyuk and pressed him closer to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut. ‘I don’t hate you, Sehyukie! Yes, I was mad, but it’s alright. It’s _fine._  I raised my expectations too high. This was _my bad, too_. It’s… it’s a mistake we all made. We _expected,_ and we decided for others. We shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have. We all are doing our best, and I believe you do, too. You did well in your universe, and you did well in the other ones, despite everything.’

Sehyuk sobbed into Byungjoo’s shoulder.

‘I need to apologize to Sanggyunie,’ he muttered wetly. ‘I did him wrong.’

‘No. _I_ did him wrong.’

This was Hansol’s voice, and it was teary, too. Hansol had stood up to his feet, his face red and wet, tears flowing freely down. Sanggyun looked up at him, and his face turned to pleadingly-disgusted.

‘I didn’t let you help when you wanted, Sanggyunie,’ Hansol muttered.

‘Oh quit,’ Sanggyun scoffed. ‘I didn’t say what I said to start a self-loathing party, you guys. And I didn’t agree to this talk to force out tears. I _hate_ seeing you cry, if you wanna know my opinion.’

‘But will you stay?’

Sanggyun let out a deep sigh, rolling his eyes.

‘You’re dumb, but I don’t think you really hate me,’ he said, turning away. ‘I mean, you really are all dumb. Sehyuk is irresponsible and dumb, Hojoon is bossy and dumb, Sangwon has a saviour complex and is dumb…’ he cracked a smirk, glancing at the boys. ‘You, Hansol, are dramatic and dumb, Sangdo is, too, and he's a people-pleaser, and he’s also dumb. Byungjoo is loud and dumb, Jiho is… dumb and dumb,’ he laughed heartily, and Jiho pulled a face. ‘Yooncheol is self-absorbed and dumb. And me...’

‘You’re petty and dumb,’ Sangwon called, sending Sanggyun a smirk.

Sanggyun sighed, looking down.

‘Yeah, guess I am. But I see we all needed this. You may not thank me, I’m good. And I'm staying for the time being.’

At that moment white light shone on them, and they all turned to see where it was coming from – except for Sehyuk, who had thrown his arms around Byungjoo and was crying quietly into the crook of his neck. A door opened in the midst of blackness, a rectangle of bright blinding whiteness. A figure appeared in the doorframe, took a step in, and reached to close the door behind its back. As soon as the light was gone, the face became visible. It was almost forgotten  Lee Yujin,  the  representative of the Q Group recreation  services in Seoul.

This time, she was dressed in a flowing red blouse and flared trousers, but her face had the same look of businesslike disinterest.

‘Hello, young men,’ she greeted politely. ‘This is Lee Yujin speaking. I hope you are done with your conversation now. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience you are experiencing.’

‘Inconvenience? _Inconvenience?!!!_ ’ Sangwon exclaimed, jumping to his feet. His fists clenched involuntarily.

‘...that, technically,’ the woman continued, right over him, looking through him, ‘as your characters all died simultaneously in an explosion, you have all passed the level.’

‘Sit down, she can’t hear you anyway,’ Sanggyun dropped.

Sangwon huffed and plopped down, breathing expressively.

‘However,’ Yujin continued, evenly, ‘as there were nine simultaneous deaths, our system experienced an overload. We need to remind you that this is our first time putting this many people into the game, and that the system working with alternate universes and using people’s memories for mapping requires a lot of operative memory. We have successfully rebooted our system, and no data loss occurred. However, it will take some time for the next level to load. Your progress is saved. We hope you understand, and we have to ask you to wait in the limbo until the new level is fully loaded to be placed inside the gameplay. And again, please accept our sincere apologies.’

Sangwon scoffed.

‘You owe us an apology for getting us all into this in the first place,’ Yooncheol muttered, leaning back on his arms. Hansol shuddered at his words. He had moved away from him, and curled up a little aside, tears still flowing down his face, and none of Yooncheol’s attempts to get him back seemed successful.

Yujin’s projection stood there unmoving for a few seconds more, and then she glitched and was gone, leaving empty black space.

There was a couple of minutes’ silence – not astounded any more, and not perfect. Sehyuk moved away from Byungjoo, wiping tears from his face. Sangdo shifted closer to Hojoon.

‘So the limbo,’ Jiho said, at last.

‘This is?’ Sanggyun called.

Jiho nodded.

‘Yeah. Like she said.’

‘So that’s how I felt all the while,’ Sangwon dropped caustically. ‘Like a sinner burning in hell. Perfect, I knew it, just couldn’t quite put a finger on it.’

‘Might not be so wrong to feel that way, actually,’ Sanggyun remarked.

Sangwon scoffed.

‘What do we do now?’

‘Now we wait,’ Jiho replied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth – but it was a bitter smile.

‘How many more levels are there?’ Sangdo asked into the air.

Yooncheol quickly counted his fingers.

‘Four more, if I’m not mistaken. I figured each one of us gets a level for himself.’

‘If we don’t figure stuff out quicker?’ Hojoon asked, hopefully.

‘Maybe,’ Sangwon replied. ‘Maybe not. Fuck knows. Maybe we’re not supposed to ever get out of here, now that I think about it.’

Yooncheol scoffed.

‘No, what the fuck are you talking about? We _will_ get out of here. We passed more than half of the game. Nothing indicates it being for death yet. A bit like…’ he rubbed the back of his head uneasily, ‘that show in Sehyuk’s universe, but the deaths are scripted and not real.’

‘Just us suffering for someone’s fun?’ Jiho asked, thoughtfully.

‘Or for our own good?’ Sanggyun shrugged. ‘Either way, I don’t like it.’

‘Me neither,’ Sangdo said, and then glitched and disappeared, much like Yujin.

There was a moment’s stillness, the calm before the storm.

‘Oh wow,’ Byungjoo muttered. ‘Here goes the first one.’

And with that he, too, glitched out. Sehyuk’s arms, still having rested on his shoulders, dropped softly to his lap.

‘This is… pretty scary, if you ask me,’ Yooncheol said, and maybe for the very first time in the game – if not ever – his voice gave out a scared trembling.

‘Let’s all just close our eyes!’ Hansol exclaimed. His own eyes were already covered by his hands, and his shoulders raised defensively.

Jiho shook his head.

‘I don’t wanna wait in darkness,’ he said. ‘I mean, we know that we’re just disappearing for the time being, right? We’re gonna meet again the next level...’

‘God knows the circumstances, th-’ Sangwon said, but he didn’t have time to finish. Another empty space appeared in between the guys.

Sanggyun visibly shuddered.

‘If she hadn’t explained what’s going on, I’d shit myself,’ he confessed, tucking his knees up.

‘I didn’t wanna know this,’ Hojoon pulled a face.

‘I mean, seriously,’ Sanggyun threw him an annoyed glance. ‘This is fucking terrifying.’

‘I’m not watching!’ Hansol decided to remind, not raising his face from his hands.

Hojoon rolled his eyes.

‘I’m gonna keep count, aloud. Like before the launch of a rocket, you know? It calms me down. Six so far, waiting for the next.’

‘What if you disappear before you can finish?’ Jiho asked, scratching his shoulder.

‘Then someone else will continue for me,’ Hojoon replied, but the end of the phrase got lost in an involuntary swallow.

‘You’re scared,’ Jiho pointed out, inclining his head to the side.

Hojoon sighed.

‘Not scared as is,’ he confessed. ‘But there are things I worry about.

‘Like what?’

Hojoon shook his head.

‘I… we… it will sort itself out, I guess,’ he decided, looking down at the ground. ‘But thanks for asking.’

There came no reply. Hojoon raised his head – to find Jiho gone.

‘Five,’ he counted, and sighed deeply.

Uneasy silence fell.

‘Sehyukie,’ Yooncheol called softly.

‘Hm?’

‘Are you feeling better now?’

Sehyuk licked his lips and threw his head back, staring at the endless blackness overhead.

‘Probably,’ he replied.

Yooncheol sighed, looking more exasperated than anything else.

‘Hey, calm down,’ Hojoon called. ‘I mean, I was counting on you to keep your cool.’

‘Keep your counting, Hojoon,’ Yooncheol replied, on an exhale.

Hojoon knitted his eyebrows.

‘What’s biting you?’

‘Bed-bugs,’ Yooncheol snapped, then looked to Hojoon and smiled. ‘We’re all sleep-deprived here.’

Hojoon nodded, looking down.

‘We are.’

Sehyuk glanced to Yooncheol, and opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t have time.

‘Four,’ Hojoon announced, apathetically.

There was another round of silence, this time longer. Yooncheol reached out and tugged on Hansol’s dirty shirt. Hansol almost didn’t move, but his shirt slipped out of his trousers, where it had been tucked all the while, revealing the small of his back, thin and bony. Yooncheol let go of his shirt and sighed, looking down.

‘Three,’ Sanggyun announced, and as Yooncheol looked up, he only caught him glitch out. He and Hansol were alone in endless blackness.

‘Hansolie,’ Yooncheol called, softly. ‘Hansolie, please. I don’t understand, what’s wrong?’

Hansol sighed, raising his head and looking around. As he turned to Yooncheol, his face was desperate.

‘It’s me, Yooncheolie,’ he said quietly, hoarsely. ‘It’s all my fault. I just realized – it was _me_ all along. I dragged us all into this, unknowingly, but I unleashed this on us all, and I don’t know how to save us.’

Yooncheol frowned, not understanding.

‘What... what the hell do you mean – it’s you?!’

Hansol bit onto his lower lip, his eyes filling with tears again.

‘This game – I mean, it was all my idea! I just forgot, Yooncheolie, I just forgot!’

Yooncheol stared at him, looking exasperated and lost. His face grew more and more helpless by second.

‘I… I don’t understand,’ he muttered, pleadingly. ‘I don’t understand what you mean...’

Hansol reached his hand out, pulling closer to Yooncheol, and Yooncheol caught his fingers, so small against his long palm.

‘Listen, it’s alright,’ he tried, uncertainly, half-questioningly. ‘I mean, it can’t be your fault? I don’t believe it! You’re always blaming yourself, but you’re never actually to blame.’

Hansol shook his head.

‘I am,’ he said quietly. ‘It was my idea. I invented this plot. I invented this, when I wanted us all to sort our shit out, and it backfired spectacularly. And I totally forgot! I don’t know how I could forget such a thing!’

‘But how is it possible?!’ Yooncheol muttered, wrapping his fingers around Hansol’s hands.

Hansol bit onto his lips, his expression pained.

‘I mean, I...’ he started, but at that moment Yooncheol’s exasperated face glitched and faded out of existence, and Hansol was left completely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This little one took me so long because of my finals, but now I'm done, and I hope to write more on winter break. Thanks for staying with me, and thanks for reading. I love you <3


	8. Hansol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hansol's bust here:  
> http://tom-failure.tumblr.com/post/173899565578/its-all-my-fault-hero-number-six-butterfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our  
> Breaths were short,  
> We shared them with our brothers,  
> We learned new games under the covers.
> 
> Jason Webley - Ways to Love

The glitch only hurt a little. Hansol shut his eyes, and it felt like he fell instantly asleep – or more like he instantly awoke. He recognized the feeling by the stickiness of his eyelids, not willing to part, by the heaviness of his disobedient body – and by the way he was quickly getting cold, wanting to pull his covers over his head and go back to sleep.

 _It began_ , - he thought, barely conscious. _Wait, what did? Just five more minutes, oh god, please, I’m not ready._

But a delay didn’t seem possible. Somebody was holding him roughly by the shoulders, shaking him.

‘Wake up!’ the voice commanded over his head. It was hoarse, but vaguely familiar. ‘Wake up, damn whore!’

Hansol winced a little at the word, - he couldn’t help but wonder about the treatment. He wanted to open his mouth and object, but his sleepy lips stuck together. Hansol crinkled his nose, feeling his body slowly waking up. The further in, however, the less he liked what he felt.

His body was hungry. That, he understood first. The sucking, hollow void in the stomach was so big it was almost painful. Hansol reached his hands involuntarily for his belly.

But even more than that, he realized in a second, his body was aching. It was laden with pain, all kinds of it – sharp and dull, even and pulsing, - and the strongest pain focused around…

His buttocks.

...his buttocks?

Hansol frowned.

No, in between his buttocks.

His anus.

A heavy slap felt onto his cheek, silencing all the other aches for a moment with burning humiliation. Hansol forced his eyes open – and faced Sangdo.

Although it took him a few seconds to adapt to the dim red light, and then to recognize Sangdo in that person.

Sangdo leaning over him had coarse scruff on his cheeks and chin and over his lip. He was thinner, wirier, and his wide cheekbones looked even sharper. His beautiful, black, almond-shaped eyes were narrowed angrily, and his jaw was sticking out, trembling slightly. The look on his face was completely unfamiliar, and for a second Hansol doubted that it was even his friend, and he wasn’t seeing things.

‘Up already, sissy?’ the hoarse voice spilt from between Sangdo’s lips.

‘S-Sangdo?’ Hansol managed, his voice high-pitched and unfamiliar.

There was a second of ringing silence. And then, it dropped, like a veil. Sangdo’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped, and as he stared at Hansol, his face suddenly became dear and familiar again.

And then, he grasped Hansol by the shoulders, and pulled him to sit up.

‘Oh God!’ he exclaimed, in a whisper. ‘Oh God, oh my God!’ He grabbed his head with his palms and froze, staring at his knees in shock, as if his _own_ thoughts were only just returning to his head, and he needed the time to process them.

This gave Hansol a little time to pull himself together. He sat up more comfortably – as comfortably as it got with the ache droning in his entire body. He winced. The light was dim, but it hurt his eyes. His mouth was dry, and the taste in it was disgusting. Hansol rubbed his eyes with the sides of his palms, and blinked, squinting, to see clearer. He looked around, taking in the room.

The red light seemingly smoothed everything out, making the room look otherworldly, outer-spacey, and at the same time – like it was buried somewhere deep, away from human eyes. There were no windows in the walls, and nothing else to let light in, except for a lamp, fixed close to the low ceiling. As Hansol’s eyes got more used to the light, he realized it was hand-painted, with crude smears of colour decorating the surface of the glass. The paint looked a lot like blood. Hansol looked away.

Smoothed? More like, smothered.

The bedsheets he was sitting on were dark. As he ran his hand along them, he found a lot of coarse spots, stained with something. He didn’t want to think what that was. His own hand caught his attention. He brought it closer to his eyes – and there they were, old bruises slowly dissolving, and dry scars, almost invisible in the light. Hansol felt nauseous.

Meanwhile, Sangdo had already dealt with the initial shock, and he certainly wasn’t about to leave Hansol any time to feel sorry for himself. He turned and grasped his thigh, leaning into him.

‘Hansolie,’ he whispered, ‘you must run. The client is gonna be here any sec now. Come, you need to dress up!’

He jumped off from the bed and rummaged down on the floor, looking for something. A terrifying thought had already crossed Hansol’s mind, but he dared ask:

‘A – client?..’

Sangdo let out an exasperated whimper, grabbing something from the floor.

‘Quick, get dressed and come with me! We need to get Byungjoo out!’

Hansol’s heart dove deep, deep. The clothes Sangdo had thrown landed right on his face – something heavy hit him rather painfully. With trembling hands, Hansol grabbed them, and looked at them more closely.

He had a vest, neatly ripped in some kind of a pattern, and skinny jeans, ripped as well, decorated with chains. He hurried to pull on the vest.

‘Sangdo,’ he called, voice trembly, emerging out of it. ‘Sangdo, where are we? What client?’

Sangdo ignored him, jumping up to his feet and pacing the room nervously. Hansol slid off the bed and started to pull on the jeans. He was nervous, and he hurt, and his moves were clumsy. Sangdo kept glancing at him in frustration.

‘Please hurry,’ he begged, quietly. ‘We need to be off!’

Finally Hansol managed to pull the jeans up and fit his crotch in without zipping on it. He had to take a deep breath to button up, and his hands disobeyed.

‘Sangdo,’ he tried again, pleadingly. ‘Sangdo, what’s wrong? What client? Is this – is this a brothel? Am I a prostitute? Tell me, Sangdo?!’

Sangdo shook his head, his expression pained. The button finally slipped into the hole, and with that he immediately grabbed Hansol painfully by the wrist, and dragged him along.

They ran into somebody at the door. In the semi-darkness outside the red room Hansol didn’t have time to catch his features or figure. Sangdo slipped in between them, covering Hansol with his body.

‘What’s wrong, S-man?’ a displeased low voice asked. The man tried to push by, pressing Sangdo into Hansol, and Hansol – into the doorframe. ‘Is the whore there? I have money on the ready, have _you_ prepared your best boy?’

‘Sir, you… need to leave...’ Sangdo stuttered.

Hansol felt the terror radiating from him. Any other moment, he would have resonated immediately. When even level-headed Sangdo was that scared, something was definitely fucked. But Hansol didn’t feel anything – he only felt lost. He looked away, feeling his heart turn into a tight knot in his chest. There was only one thing he understood. He _was_ a prostitute. He was _the whore._

‘What do you mean?!’ the low voice asked, even more disgruntled.

‘The police!’ Sangdo exclaimed, slipping past the man and dragging Hansol with him. ‘The police are about to come, sir, you need to run! I’m sorry, I’ve been informed!’

And before the man could say anything, Sangdo hurried away from the room, shouting frantically:

‘Police! Police! Everybody, hide!’

The corridor – now Hansol realized it was a corridor – started filling with people. There weren't many, but the corridor was narrow and quick to become packed. The people were pulling up their trousers, they had clean, displeased faces – men, fat men and thin men, men of different colour, inconvenienced men, angry men. And other men – dishevelled men, bruised men, bony men, _young men –_ most looked even younger than Hansol, some looked like teenagers. The corridor was swarmed with different men, and understanding what was going on made Hansol more and more queasy.

Sangdo pulled him into one of the side rooms.

‘Sir!’ he called. ‘Sir, police! You need to run away, sir!’

But Hansol’s gaze slipped right past the bare-assed buff man Sangdo was addressing, who climbed off the wide, low bed with just the same disgruntled expression. No, he looked right past him, at who had been hiding behind him – at a thin young man, who was sitting, clasping covers to his chest. His cornered, silently desperate stare was darting across faces, looking for something, but never finding it.

‘Byungjoo...’ Hansol muttered.

The guy’s stare jibbed into Hansol almost physically painfully. The look in his eyes was _sharp_. Hansol took a step forward, at him. The voiced were slipping past his ears – Sangdo’s voice, explaining something quickly and inconsistently, the buff man’s squeaky voice, the stomping of what seemed like hundreds of feet on the floor out in the corridor - although there couldn't have been more than fifteen pairs. He took another step.

‘Byungjoo,’ slipped past his lips.

The look in Byungjoo’s eyes changed, and then dropped down, Byungjoo grabbed his head with his hands, lowered it to his knees and froze.

The door clicked to close, softly, behind Hansol's back. The sounds reaching him were now muffled and background. Sangdo covered the distance to the bed in a few wide strides, and jumped onto it, grabbing Byungjoo’s shoulders and pulling him close.

‘Joo-Joo! I’m so sorry, so sorry!’

His whispers were wet and teary. Byungjoo didn’t respond. Hansol lowered down onto the bed, slowly, and tucked his feet up. He realized he had been barefoot the whole time.

Sangdo released Byungjoo and stood up sharply.

‘I need all those _clients_ out of here,’ he declared, with disgust. ‘If anyone asks anything – the police are here. I need to make sure they all leave. Shoo them away and close this place. You wait for me, alright?’

Hansol nodded, glancing up at him.

‘Yeah, go,’ he said, softly.

Sangdo bit back both of his lips, but said nothing. He turned away and left the room quickly.

* * *

They didn’t say anything for a while. Hansol listened to the noises coming from behind the closed door, and little jolts of fear ran from his back to his throat every time someone stomped or shouted a little louder. Byungjoo sat unmoving at his side. At length, Hansol decided to do what he had been itching to do all the while. He put his hands onto Byungjoo’s shoulders and clung to him softly.

Byungjoo shivered, but didn’t move away. Hansol sighed. He didn’t know what he could say to help in this situation, but he figured he knew the words that wouldn’t hurt.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, quietly.

It was a feeble attempt to break the thick silence, but it fell down and shattered on the dirty floor. Byungjoo didn’t respond. Hansol thought he understood why. Waking up to understand you had just been raped wasn’t something he could _exactly_ relate to – _thank goodness –_ but he certainly could empathize. He caught himself wondering why Byungjoo hadn't snapped and broken into a fit of anger. Maybe through the course of all those universes he had become too weak. Or maybe having been _raped_ like that - not having yet been fetched, but with a memory fresh in his head - was something completely different, something that fucked up his mind to the point where he wasn't even quite himself. Newly-awakened guilt squeezed his heart with an iron hand. Hansol shut his eyes, inhaling the dirty smell of Byungjoo’s hair and sweat.

_Forgive me. Oh, if only you knew, if only you could forgive me! But what am I thinking – no one could. If you knew, you all would hate me. You would hate me so much for hurting you all..._

‘I’m so sorry,’ he whispered. It was a meaningless repeat, and he knew it. ‘If I could do anything to help you, I would.’

Byungjoo sighed quietly.

‘Thank you for being here,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘I’m glad to see you, lil’ hero.’

Hansol bit onto his lower lip. Something inside him was burning to tell Byungjoo – to confess at least to _somebody_ how badly he fucked up. But fear tightened his throat. He envisioned hatred in Byungjoo’s stare, he imagined disappointment in Sangdo’s face – and couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. He buried his face deeper into Byungjoo’s shoulder and tried to silence the guilt.

Byungjoo wrapped one arm half-heartedly around Hansol and sighed deeply. He seemed reluctant to lean properly in, and Hansol figured he didn’t want more touches than it was necessary. Himself, he couldn’t bring to let go. He had to go a long and terrible way today, while he hurt and wanted only to hide away.

Little by little, the noises outside subsided, and the thick air in the room seemed to slightly lift. Byungjoo wrapped his other arm softly around Hansol, leaning into him. Hansol thought it a good sign. He stroked Byungjoo’s hair – sleek with grease.

‘I want us to be okay,’ he said, quietly. ‘I will do anything.’

Byungjoo sighed again. Then, he drew his arms back from Hansol, and pushed out of his embrace – softly, but confidently.

‘Yeah, I hope so,’ he replied, nodding, and sniffed.

As he looked away, Hansol glanced down, too. He couldn’t help a bad feeling, like he had just scared away a beautiful, rare bird – Byungjoo was one of those, and Hansol couldn’t keep his fragile trust. He wanted to apologize, but thought better of opening his mouth again.

_My stupid, stupid mouth._

He knew what Byungjoo felt towards him. He knew just how much Byungjoo loved him, and how angry it made him that he couldn’t help him anyhow, and couldn’t have his feelings reciprocated. Hansol felt guilty for not being able to love him back with the same passion. Byungjoo was beastly to him, with his unpredictable fits of fury, with his load of inner pain – Hansol knew it immediately when he saw Byungjoo’s face. He just couldn’t love him that beastly.

He knew all too well that it only hurt Byungjoo more when he touched him or expressed his affection anyhow – the sign that he was there, close at hand, so available, but just not the way Byungjoo wanted him. But he couldn’t help feeling guilty for leaving him hanging, dissatisfied, unfulfilled – and he kept giving him what he wanted, but didn’t need. For that, however, he felt guilty, too.

It was nice – and it was terrible to be loved by so many. And the harder it was for Hansol to know just _how exactly_ they wanted him. There wasn’t _just_ Byungjoo, and he had realized that very quickly. There was also Sangwon – just as beastly, and even more lost. But while Byungjoo at least tried to stay away, to distract himself and to find someone else, Sangwon didn’t even try. His ridiculous hope radiated from him every time he was near and drove Hansol crazy.

Hansol honestly tried. He tried to send Sangwon away, to ignore him, to be rude to him – he tried anything and everything to try and make his feelings disappear. But it was hopeless, and every time Hansol felt guilty, because he _knew_ how much pain he caused Sangwon – and every time it made him change his demeanor and be affectionate again, and he tried to compensate for all the pain he had caused – only to realize, at the end of the day, that he was simply leading Sangwon on, leaving him no hope for ever being loved back.

There wasn’t just quick temper and unpredictability to Sangwon that drove Hansol away. Those, catalyzed by Byungjoo – whom, Hansol understood, Sangwon saw as a rival – could easily find way out in his rapping and dancing. But there was something else. Sangwon was a knight – in the worst meaning of the word.

He was truly medieval in his sacred faith in Real Men and Real Women, the former of which he desired to be, and the latter to have. And Hansol understood all too well that Sangwon saw in him a Real Woman – which he wasn’t, but, to Sangwon, that didn’t matter. His world was cruel but fair, and all black and white. He was so incredibly intelligent, and he was so talented and heartfelt – and so deeply lost in his own lies. He lied to himself about others, and lied to others about himself, and the further on, the more he drowned in those half-truths and fantasies. And Hansol wanted to give him a helping hand – but that meant to hurt him so deeply that Hansol wasn’t sure he _himself_ could survive that pain. He despised his own empathy at times, so acute he could almost physically feel what others felt, but he had no way of shutting it off. Besides, he always told himself, he had troubles of his own to sort out, which were way more important than dragging Sangwon out. ‘ _Put on your own oxygen mask first, and then the child’s,’_ Yooncheol always said, and his voice sounded in Hansol’s ears in the moments of doubt, soothing him and reassuring him he was doing the right thing. Yooncheol’s words were always good and on time. Hansol just wished he followed his own advice.

Yooncheol was the third man in the conquest for his heart – only he didn’t see it as a conquest at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons why Hansol decided he, of all people, was worth a shot. It wasn’t like he was choosing out of the three, no, he couldn’t ever be this sensibly cruel. He wasn’t just mirroring the treatment he received – he had feelings of his own, although not all people comprehended those feelings correctly. He wasn’t even sure Yooncheol understood, but he was careful and he listened, and Hansol was grateful for that.

* * *

 The door flew open, and Sangdo ran in. He rushed to the bed, and grasped both boys into an embrace. Hansol didn’t even have time to return to his senses, but he grasped Sangdo tightly, burying his nose into his jacket. The sharp smell of cigarette smoke and sweat hit his nostrils cruelly, and his breath hitched, but Hansol just tightened his fingers on Sangdo’s back. He felt so good and comforting to be around, but Hansol’s heart wrung at the thought that he’d have to leave his side so soon.

_And to think why – oh, I wish I kept to myself! I wish I minded my own business!_

Sangdo’s fingers tangled in his hair, and he felt his eyes welling with tears. Sangdo always felt like a brother to him – always a comforting touch, a healing presence, and he never asked for anything back. Hansol loved him mindlessly, he would have done anything for him in a heartbeat, but Sangdo had seven others to take care of – and even more people outside the group, while Hansol was needy, and he didn’t want to parasitize on Sangdo’s kindness. He adored him from slightly aside, like a brother, but every time being near him was a blessing.

Byungjoo was the first to pull away and break the tight bond of the embrace, and Sangdo released them both, leaning back. Now Hansol could see his face – and it was wet with tears. Sangdo covered his mouth with his hand, staring at the two in front of him, and his face distorted in a pained grimace.

‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry,’ he whispered, his voice muffled from behind his palm. ‘I let you down… Byungjoo, my dear, dear Joo, I’m so sorry.’

Byungjoo looked down and pulled a face – he seemed lost and uncomfortable.

‘Sangdo, please,’ he tried, ‘it’s not even your fault...’

 _It’s mine, -_ a cruel voice finished, in Hansol’s head, and he realized he needed to get going.

He rose sharply, confidently, as Sangdo reached his hands to Byungjoo’s shoulders, not daring to touch him.

‘Alright, you guys,’ he said, trying to make his voice stern, ‘time for me to leave. Will you two be safe here?’

Both turned and looked to him – Sangdo sharply, all agitation, and Byungjoo apathetically, his stare heavy and pained. They both knew he had to leave sooner or later, Hansol thought absently, but they would both try to stop him.

‘What do you mean -’ Sangdo began, but Byungjoo didn’t let him finish.

‘Yes, you do,’ he said, nodding his head in agreement. ‘You need to go for the others, the sooner the better.’

The resolve in his voice stung – Hansol realized Byungjoo didn’t want to have him by. He pressed up his lips, but nodded. After all, he was right.  _It will be easier for me not having to convince them to let me go, -_ he thought, but it was nothing more than self-suggestion, and he knew it.

Sangdo jumped to his feet.

‘What do you mean?! Do you even know where you are?!’

‘You never told me,’ Hansol replied, walking slowly around the bed, inching closer to the door. He wished he had kept his mouth shut and just left without explanation, although it seemed way too cruel - especially to Sangdo.

‘You are in a fucking brothel in slums, is where you are!’ Sangdo exclaimed, taking a step to the side and blocking Hansol’s way to the door. ‘Do you know what that means?! A fuckton of people, whom the cleanly upper class considers garbage, desperate people with nothing to lose - all crammed up here, trying to rip themselves a piece of quiet life!'

He took a step at Hansol, and his voice lowered. He knitted his eyebrows, and the muscles on his jaw began to twitch menacingly.

‘Junkies. Thieves. Rapists. Murderers,’ he counted his fingers cruelly, never taking his eyes off Hansol. ‘You wanna walk among those alone? You’re a prostitute, Hansol, and they all know it, and they think you’re always available, and they know that if you aren’t, they’re stronger than you!’

He didn’t stumble on the word ‘prostitute’, but Hansol did. The bitter taste filled his mouth, and he swallowed forcefully. He took a tiny step back, straightening, trying to give himself more confidence.

‘What are you suggesting?’ he asked, inclining his head to the side, trying desperately to keep his voice from trembling.

‘We will go with you,’ Sangdo put his hands on his hips, raising his chin, sniffing bravely. ‘I and Byungjoo, we will go. Three is better than one.’

Hansol smiled bitterly. However much his heart desired to have them by, he just couldn’t let that happen.

‘Who three? Byungjoo? Look at him, he’s barely holding together. He needs you here. And you won’t be of much help, either.’

Sangdo scoffed.

‘You don't even know who I am. I have guns,’ he dropped, and his lip twitched weirdly, although his voice was full of fake self-confidence. ‘I have a shit ton of different guns, and I can shoot pretty well. I can protect you both, if need be.’

Hansol sighed.

‘No, you don’t understand,’ he said, softly. ‘Look, Sangdo, it’s my fault you even ended up here. I started this all. I need to go. If anything happens to me, I deserve that, and I promise to survive to fetch every last one of you. I need to fix what I’ve done, and to go now is the only way.’

He put his hand up, as if to move Sangdo off the way, but Sangdo leaned towards him, squinting and peeking into his face.

‘What the fuck do you mean?!’ he managed, his shock and distrust breaking his voice into a high pitch. ‘What do you mean you started this all?’

‘I meant exactly what you heard,’ Hansol muttered, trying to push by, but Sangdo caught his hand. It hurt, and Hansol hissed, jerking it back. Sangdo’s fingers unclenched immediately, and he stepped back, putting his hand onto the door preventively.

‘No-o, that won’t do. You need to explain yourself.’

‘Sangdo, let him go,’ Byungjoo called weakly from the bed. ‘Give him a fucking gun and let him go. He’s right, I can barely sit. It hurts so fucking much, Sangdo.’

Sangdo’s expression changed to helpless. He glanced to Byungjoo, then back at Hansol, hand still on the door.

‘I – I can’t!’ he stuttered, beggingly. ‘It’s certain death for him! I can't risk it!’

‘Give him the gun,’ Byungjoo repeated, weakly. ‘Do you remember? There’s a script. They won’t kill him. We’re here for a reason.’

Sangdo’s gaze darted to Hansol, completely desperate now.

‘Please, let me go,’ Hansol said, softly, putting his hand on Sangdo’s. ‘We can’t waste time.’

Sangdo’s lips twitched. He looked down – and then suddenly shook himself. Hurriedly, he reached to his hips – there was a holster fastened to his belt. Sangdo unbuckled the belt in quick, erratic moves, pulled it out, and extended his both hands to Hansol: one, with the belt, and the other, with the holster.

‘Take these,’ he said. ‘No, wait, let me...’

Hansol watched his quick hands flying around his hips, fastening the belt around them. As he was done, he pulled the gun out, and handed it to Hansol.

‘Do you know how to shoot?’ he asked.

Hansol shook his head. Sangdo sighed desperately.

‘Let me show you, quickly,’ he said, softly. ‘Here, take that. Click this here, and then...’

Hansol accepted the cold metal in both hands, and stared forward with unseeing eyes.  _Come what may, -_ he thought absently. 

* * *

It had sure taken Sangdo a bit to adjust to shooting with his right hand, for right-handed Hansol, but, eventually, he did. His stance was confident, if a bit too angular, and his narrowed eyes as he aimed were those of a predatory bird. Hansol mirrored his moves, but Sangdo still had to correct him, fixing his posture with his hands. His fingers were soft like dough, and his touches were delicate. Hansol had trouble putting Yu Sangdo together with S-man in his head. They were like two polar opposites, and Hansol was pretty sure that Sangdo could never contain such a monstrous side in his big warm heart.

The bullet left a round hole in the wall, and Sangdo’s face was desperate as he touched the edges of it with his fingertips, but Hansol knew he was trying his best to be strong. He was grateful for that. As he left, he planted tiny kisses on the others’ foreheads, unable to help a menacing feeling that he saw them for the last time in his life.

He hadn’t walked too far from the door of the room when Sangdo caught up with him and called his name. He stopped and turned. Sangdo almost ran into him. His warm lips pressed to Hansol’s forehead, and he buried his fingers in his hair. His stubble scratched Hansol's skin, but Hansol didn’t mind any bit of the sensation. He closed his eyes and took in the sharp smell of Sangdo’s clothes. Sangdo released him slowly, reluctantly, and gave him one last look in the eye. Then, without a word, he turned and hurried away. He didn’t look back.

As Hansol walked through the corridor, the gun remained nothing but unpleasant weight on his right hip. The passage led him out into a hall – a dance hall of sorts, he guessed, a strip club. He lingered at the door, examining the room, big and bathing in magenta lights. It had a stage with a pylon in the middle, and some tables and chairs around it. Some of those chairs were dropped to the floor – as the clients were leaving in a hurry, they couldn’t have been bothered to fix anything. From behind the bar at the further end of the room, a guy shot him an unpleasant, prickly look. Hansol stepped hesitantly into the hall, trying not to focus on anything for too long.

Under the boy’s heavy stare, he crossed the hall, to a big door marked with a shiny ‘EXIT’ sign, and pushed it to open. He expected bright light to pour in and blind him, but as he stepped out into the cool air he was met with semi-darkness of the evening, lit with scarce yellow and red lights. The street was narrow and dirty. Hansol turned and took a few steps back to get a better look at the building. The dusty light box over the door of the brothel bore a sign ‘Big S night club’ in an ugly font. He turned away again, as quickly as he could. The pain between his buttocks had returned, and he liked none of it.

* * *

 

Sangdo had given him some instructions: where to go and how to mention him. In this universe, he didn’t usually go to people to ask for favours – _they_ did, and S-man, as he was known around, the local pimp and drug and weapon dealer, granted what they wanted, for their money and cervices. He was an influential person around here, but he hardly knew anyone of the other boys from the group – maybe they were of little importance to S-man. He mentioned it being the likely reason, but reluctantly, and Hansol understood why.

Everything in Sangdo gave away how guilty he felt for being the pimp. From the moment he was fetched, he didn’t fit in with the very atmosphere of the brothel – his good-natured, anxious self didn’t belong in the evil red light, among locked rooms and _clients_ demanding fresh meat. However much Hansol thought about it, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around _why_ Sangdo was given such a role. He vaguely remembered others mentioning Sangwon’s theory — something about their real feelings affecting their roles – but he knew the truth, and he couldn’t put S-man into the concept. There was nothing Sangdo could possibly learn from a situation he was in – if only more guilt, which he already had in excess.

He remembered he had to go to the left from the brothel, and then take the first left turn, again. There, Sangdo said, he had to find the den of the new unspoken _boss_ of the area – the hunk nicknamed Batman, who never appeared around without his Batman mask on. Sangdo was among the selected few to have seen his face, and he said he was sure Batman was Jiho, although, in this universe, he was rather hard to recognize. Sangdo said he – _S-man –_ was under his protection, but he was visibly uncomfortable talking about him. Hansol realized he was scared – and also that Batman had _used_ some of Sangdo’s boys. A thought crossed his mind that maybe he himself was once his treat. He tried not to think about it. The very thought made him queasy.

Instead, he looked around, taking in the street.

The street he was walking was darkened. The lights were lit, but only so many of them actually worked. Some were broken, some missing, some others gave sickly trembly flickers instead of light. The shadows were long and unsteady, making Hansol shiver time and time again. The street was empty, but looked like it was filled with ghosts. It was invisibly _alive_ , and Hansol felt like he was being watched from everywhere. Upon approaching those shadows, however, they always turned out to belong to piles of rubbish cracking under his sneakers, or debris scattered around the narrow pavement, and every now and then a stray cat. Still, Hansol couldn't shake a bad feeling, and he kept his ears pricked up just in case somebody decided to follow him.

Unusually tall fences with jagged tops were squeezing the street from both sides, leaving hardly any air to breathe. The houses hiding behind them seemed lifeless – or maybe they were – and invasive at the same time. On the opposite side of the street, there were a few clammy bars or cafes, their flyblown signboards shining dimly, but they seemed as empty as everything, and there wasn’t even any stirring inside. Hansol was feeling increasingly uncomfortable passing them. The chilly evening wind found its way under his vest, and he shivered. He looked down and tried to keep his eyes on the asphalt.

He was walking slowly – moving faster brought too much pain – and generally didn’t disturb the menacing stillness. The street seemed endlessly long, and the turn Hansol could see didn’t want to come closer at all. His thoughts were beginning to wander, and the place they were wandering to was dark. Hansol was losing ground.

He was never one to stand firmly on his feet in the first place. He swung, and he swung violently. He never felt in place for long, the ground was constantly running out from under his feet, like a treadmill, and Hansol didn’t know how he was still balancing. This feeling of guilt and loss wasn’t unfamiliar to him – more like, it was his usual state, but at least in the real world he could cling to familiar things and people, to daily routines, to working schedules… in the universes of the game he couldn’t cling to anything at all. Even dear and beloved people – his groupmates – were weird and alien, revealing the darkest parts of themselves and barely resembling the boys he knew so well. Even Yooncheol…

E _ven Yooncheol._

He finally reached the turn, he realized, kicking a coca-cola tin apathetically. He took to the left, and only belatedly noticed a pair of legs on the edge of his field of vision. His forehead bumped into something warm and firm – _thud! -_ and he started and shied away. Lost in his own thoughts, with his downcast eyes, he had stopped seeing anything around him. Now he had to look up again – and as he did so he froze, feeling disgusting goosebumps creeping down his back.

The widest backside was towering above him, clad in a thin black tee. The man – judging by the width of the shoulders, it had to be a man – had been stooped, but straightened now, rolling his shoulders up and back. Even in the scarce evening light, Hansol could see thick muscles shifting under the fabric. The man cracked his neck painfully slowly, and when he spoke, Hansol had already died a thousand times inside.

‘You have one chance to properly apologize,’ the man said, his voice broken and hoarse, but unbearably familiar. ‘You can use your chance now.’

He was speaking evenly, as if he was immensely tired, but in his very shape Hansol sensed threat. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth, wondering as the words spilled at how thin and unfamiliar his own voice sounded:

‘I’m… I’m very sorry, sir, this won’t… repeat...’

And he trailed off, unable to continue with this ugly and strange voice ringing in his ears.

The man gave a sigh – and then a short laugh.

‘Hey, I know you. Aren’t you that whore from the Big S? You must be, who else has that little pitchy voice like you do?’

Hansol swallowed again. The ringing in his ears grew louder, and his sight became threateningly fizzy.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he repeated, just to keep conscious.

‘ _You’re a prostitute, Hansol, and they all know it, and they think you’re always available, and they know that if you aren’t, they’re stronger than you!’_ \- Sangdo’s voice shouted desperately in his head. Hansol cursed himself, and everything else.

The man, however, didn’t seem inclined to do any moving at all.

‘Hey, don’t be scared,’ he called, leaning onto the wall, still not turning his head. ‘You can go. Don’t you worry, I won’t use my chance to grab your ass, I’ve done this – and more – a lot of times, and I’m very much fed up. Do you remember me?’ He hemmed. ‘Although, why am I asking? Two years have passed. How can you remember, you’re a little slut, your memory’s short. You have hundreds of men like me fucking you every day. Why remember, am I right? As long as we pay and fuck you nice and hard, our names and faces are of no real importance...’

Hansol thought of Byungjoo’s cornered stare, and his own green bruises and dry scars. _The fuck do you know about real importance? -_ he thought, but didn’t say it aloud. His throat tightened again, he was feeling nauseous.

The man turned his face slightly. Now Hansol could see the outline of his high cheekbone, and his jaw, a bit too sleek for such a big buff body.

‘Or are you, by any chance, looking for anything? If that’s the case, I’ll be happy to help a pretty boy out. After all, last time I saw you, the only thing you could easily navigate to was my dick! Been a while...’

He laughed briefly, and Hansol forced himself to swallow the desperate anger, together with ugly-tasted saliva.

‘Actually, there is,’ he muttered, surprised at his own bravery. ‘I need to see Batman. What’s more, I’m looking for certain people, and if you at least heard of their names...’

‘Then what, you’ll blow me?’ the man interrupted, evidently amused.

Hansol’s breath hitched. He already regretted talking to the man at all.

‘Never mind,’ he said, suddenly confident. ‘I’ll find them on my own. Good night!’

He took a step forward, determined to stride past the man, but ran into a preventively raised arm.

‘Hey wait,’ the man dropped. ‘I had no idea you lost all of your sense of humour in just a couple years. I wanna know what you’re doing going to Batman on your own at this time of night. Don’t you know what his guys can do – _will do_ to you before they even let you see him?’

Hansol swallowed hard, not looking up. Anger and terror mixed inside of him, and he couldn’t distinguish one from the other any more.

‘Who are you looking for?’ the man asked calmly. ‘Chances are, I might know them. Don’t worry, I’m in no place to demand any favours, or to take them myself, for that matter. You have to spare me the little joy of joking like I used to – I mean, you can take that. Give me the names.’

Hansol stole a glance at the man’s bicep just a little lower than his eye level. Fuck it, he thought, he might just give it a shot.

‘I’m looking for... Jeon Hojoon,’ he dared. ‘And for Shin Jiho. Also, for Kim Sanggyun, Seo Sangwon and Park Sehyuk.’

He had to pause to stop his voice from breaking into a dissonant note. The familiar, beloved names burned his mouth – and his heart. He had to bite on his lip painfully hard, and he still felt his eyes dangerously wetting. The man waited silently. Hansol took a deep breath.

‘But most of all,’ he managed, ‘I’m looking for Shin Yooncheol...’

And he had to fall silent, because his throat tightened. He sniffed and shut his eyes, waiting for the urge to pass.

The man was silent for a few long moments.

‘Why the hell would you need all those people?’ he asked, at last. His voice wasn’t angry, just surprised. ‘I mean, I heard of some, and I wanna know why the hell you’d need them, all together or separately.’

Hansol took another breath.

‘I need to help much better people than me,’ he said, looking away. ‘If you know them and where to find them, I’d appreciate any help.’ He took another breath and shut his eyes. ‘If you want anything for your help...’

The man scoffed.

‘Oh quit. I got pretty fed up with boys. I prefer girls now. Are softer, you know. You’ll need to tell me why you need these people and who sent you.’

‘Nobody sent me,’ Hansol replied, looking down. ‘I’m looking for these people because I know them and I really need to see them and gather them together. We have a thing to do together, but...’ he hesitated. ‘But S-man asked me not to mention it.’

‘Oh, so Big S sent you!’ the man’s voice sounded relieved. ‘Okay then. Could’ve said that at once. I’m all for cooperating with the old friend. I hope he remembers me.’

‘I don’t know,’ Hansol said, honestly.

The man hemmed.

‘I can’t believe you don’t recognize me,’ he remarked, only now lowering his arm. ‘I mean, you don’t, do you?’

‘I don’t,’ Hansol replied, apathetically. The talk was becoming torturous, and the man’s hoarse voice was so strained that Hansol’s own vocal cords physically hurt.

The man hemmed again.

‘I don’t believe it,’ he said, finally turning to face Hansol. ‘But look at me, in that case. Maybe my face will remind something to you.’

Hansol raised his head, his stare weary, already prepared for another disgusting face. But as he focused on the man’s features, he gasped, and covered his mouth with his hand.

* * *

 

‘Sangwonie!’

Sangwon swallowed a mouthful of air – and stumbled back as Hansol threw himself on his chest.

‘Oh goodness!’ he managed. ‘Oh fuck, Hansolie!’

Hansol closed his eyes, clutching Sangwon, leaning onto him with all his weight. He could hardly believe he _really_ saw the familiar face screwed onto the body of a hunk, but there it was, dissonant but dear. He felt Sangwon’s arms wrap around him softly, cradling him – he didn’t have to stand on the ground any more.

‘It’s you!’ Sangwon whispered.

His voice didn’t change a notch – it was the same strained croak, but now Hansol was eager to hear more of it. He felt Sangwon put his feet back to the ground, and released him reluctantly, to look into his eyes. Sangwon raised his eyebrows, fixing Hansol’s hair.

‘Oh my fuck… what have they done to you?’

Hansol shook his head.

‘No, not important now, Sangwonie. I'm fine, but I need to know everything. Tell me about yourself, tell me about the others. I need to find all of you, it’s evening already.’

Sangwon smiled slightly.

‘Around here, no one sleeps at this time of night,' he said softly. 'You shouldn’t worry.’

Hansol clasped Sangwon’s shoulders.

‘Please, tell me who they are. Tell me where to find them. And tell me who _you_ are – why did I have to know you?’

Sangwon's expression changed to a frown, he stroked Hansol's arms slightly, soothingly.

‘What’s biting you? Okay, okay, I’ll tell you, just calm down, alright?’

 _I need to make amends, -_ Hansol almost said, but bit his tongue just on time. He didn’t want questions. He took a deep breath.

‘Okay. Okay, I’m good,’ he said, sending Sangwon a fake little smile.

Sangwon inclined his head to the side and sighed.

‘Save that for somebody else. I'm just asking you to breathe a little. I mean, we're all in this together, I get what you feel.’

Hansol nodded, easing his grip on Sangwon’s shoulders.

'Yeah, right. I'm listening.'

Sangwon sighed again, looking Hansol up and down and shaking his head to himself.

‘Well, alright. You want a fairytale? I have one for you,' he breathed slowly in and out, looking away, gathering his thoughts. 'I’m Sangwon, that much you know. Previously nicknamed Prince Charming – for my baby face. Before Batman took over this place, I was the boss of this area. Everybody was pleasing me for protection from my side, everyone fought for my attention. I was happy to grant my services, and I was happy to use those offered to me...’ he moved his shoulders uneasily, stooping slightly.

 _The real Sangwon wouldn’t ever have done anything Sangwon from here did, -_ Hansol thought, and, weirdly, it felt like mere self-suggestion, again.

‘What happened to you?’ he asked softly, not wanting to give in to the bad thoughts. Now that the first exaltation and shock had subsided, he could see Sangwon more clearly, and he didn’t like what he saw.

From the back Sangwon looked a lot more impressive, Hansol had to admit. He was tall – taller than he was in reality – and as wide as a good wardrobe. He didn’t quite fit into his tee and jeans, all black and shabby, and that made him look equally strong and weirdly effeminate. From the back, one could get lost and confused in his barely obscured muscles, bulky and constantly alive. From the front, however, Sangwon had a kind round face – he looked like that a few years before, Hansol remembered, when he still had his baby cheeks. He was clean shaven – so clean it didn’t look like he grew facial hair at all, - and his features were smooth and soft, while his stare was full of pitch-black despair. His wide shoulders were hunched, somehow looking even wider because of it, as if Sangwon didn’t fit into space designed for him, and tried to shrink himself to look proper. He had a few scars on his neck and face, and more on his arms. As Hansol looked down at his hands, he realized Sangwon was lacking the last phalanxes on two of his fingers – the index and the middle of his right palm. Sangwon caught his glance and hastily hid his hand behind his back. He looked embarrassed.

‘Well, a lot of shit happened,’ he confessed with a sigh. ‘People here didn’t like me – I mean no one ever really likes their boss, they just fake loyalty to survive. This way, when I got caught, no one came to my rescue. They weren’t scared I would get out and come back for them. There was plenty of evidence, I was basically caught red-handed.’

‘On what?’

Sangwon knitted his eyebrows and looked away.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he snapped. ‘What matters is, I got into prison. I had _friends_ to help me out of there, but it was trouble to reach them, and so I spent almost two years in the prison still. And now I get out and what do I see? My place has been taken by some Batman. Half of the people I knew are on his side now, and not glad to see me at all – and now they can say it aloud, under his protection. The other half of people I knew are wretches. And my _friends..._ ’ he smirked bitterly. ‘When I got out, they just handed me clean clothes and a little money, and told me that if I ever get in trouble again, they won’t help me. And so I’m here, you know. Trying to avoid getting into trouble. Which is a bit difficult, but you probably already guessed.’

Hansol licked his lips, looking away.

‘Is Jiho Batman?’ he asked, out of lack of anything better to say.

‘Yeah. But I don’t think you’ll recognize him well when you see him. Remember him in the fairytale universe?’

Hansol had to use all of his energy to recall what Jiho looked like then. After quite some thinking, he finally recalled.

‘So… big and pale?’

‘The albino, yeah,’ Sangwon nodded. ‘I mean, take his build from there, and the shaved head, sprinkle with some scars… he looks rather bad, I must say. Part of the reason why he wears his Batman mask.’

Hansol couldn’t help a little smile.

‘Batman mask… sounds like something Jiho would do in any universe, right?’

Sangwon’s face remained serious. He shook his head.

‘Nothing endearing in it here, trust me. And getting to see Jiho will be hard as hell. And I won’t be of much help there.

‘What about the others?’ Hansol asked hastily. He wanted to distract Sangwon from the very idea that he had to be helping, although he knew he hardly could.

Sangwon rubbed the bridge of his nose – displaced, Hansol realized.

‘Well, I knew some. I knew S-man, but I think you already fetched poor fellow.’

Hansol remembered the feeling of Sangdo’s dry lips against his forehead.

‘Yes,’ he said simply.

Sangwon nodded.

‘Yeah. I also knew Sanggyunie. A poor kid, he is. Always shoplifting. Some could say he’s a kleptomaniac, but I say he’s just a poor homeless boy with nothing to eat and no chance to ever get out of this place and find a proper job. That’s probably why he’s so angry.’

‘Angry?’

That sounded like Sanggyun, but with the way Sangwon fell silent, Hansol felt the need to ask again. Sangwon nodded.

‘Yeah, he is. Always picking up fights, always trying to protect somebody – or himself. Mostly himself. He doesn’t understand they won’t stop bullying him. They do just because they can, and they will keep doing that just for that reason. He’s hungry and weak, how can he do much harm?’

Hansol imagined – _recalled –_ the feeling of helplessness, anger mixed with fear, and shuddered.

‘Do you know where to find him?’ he asked.

Sangwon shook his head.

‘He’s always somewhere around, but it’s not like you can find him on purpose.’ He gave another bitter smirk. ‘You know, funnily enough, I remember Jiho from when I was the boss here. He was always fighting with Sanggyun. He was bigger, and he bullied him. But you know – he always got beat pretty badly himself.’

Hansol chewed on his lip.

‘So you’re saying I can’t really go to Jiho, and I can’t really find Sanggyun anywhere?’ he summed up, looking up at Sangwon.

Sangwon shrugged.

‘Kind of.’

‘Even if I mention Sangdo?’

Sangwon licked his lips.

‘Well, you can do that, but they will probably just say they’re happy to help Big S earn some extra money. That, before they… well, fuck you.’

Hansol shut his eyes tightly.

‘Could you maybe be more careful with your wording?’

‘Sorry.’

It seemed like that wasn’t all that Sangwon had to say. He lingered, and Hansol decided to insist.

‘Do you know anyone else?’

Sangwon looked aside, clearly playing intense brain work. He _knew_ someone, Hansol realized.

_Who does Sangwon not want to tell me about?_

‘Yooncheol?’ he asked, hesitantly.

Sangwon’s stare jibbed into him. Hansol felt uneasy right away. He locked his fingers together and looked down. At length, the feeling of Sangwon’s heavy stare was gone. He heard a sigh.

‘Yeah, him. I knew him back then. He was a drug dealer, one of the big ones, before S-man took over the monopoly. Strangely, I never hear of him now. I wonder if anything happened to him.’

Hansol felt a bad kind of vacuum sucking under his breath.

‘But you know where to find him?’ he asked, impatiently – and cursed himself, because he knew Sangwon had noticed his eagerness by the way he looked to the side with a little grimace.

‘I do. At least I know where you _could_ find him back then. Not like I checked after I returned. I’ll show you.’

‘Anyone else?’ Hansol asked, just to change the subject.

Sangwon shook his head.

‘Nah. Not that I remember, at least. Guess they were too insignificant to me.’ The last words sounded caustic. ‘Funny, huh? Before, others were insignificant to me. And now, I’m the smallest of them all here, smaller even that you… damn, I’m sorry.’

Hansol winced, but shook his head.

‘Doesn’t matter. Small or not, you need to make your way to the Big S now. Sangdo and Byungjoo are waiting for you there.’

‘Byungjoo?! What is he doing there?’

Hansol closed his eyes – and then opened them wide, just to get rid of the sight of Byungjoo’s desperate face and cornered stare, emerging from under a man disgruntled with the _inconvenience._

‘He’s… like me,’ he said, expressionlessly.

Sangwon let out an empathetic sigh.

‘So a prostitute?’ Hansol winced, and he hurried: ‘Okay, sorry. He must be new, I didn’t know he was ever here.’

Hansol bit hard onto his lower lip.

‘You need to go to the Big S,’ he repeated, finally, with an effort. ‘Sangdo and Byungjoo – mostly Byungjoo – need your help, and I need a place to find you all.’

‘What do you mean I need to go?’

Hansol didn’t look up, but by the voice he could imagine Sangwon’s resentful expression.

‘You have to,’ he repeated. ‘They need you. Byungjoo needs you.’

Sangwon scoffed loudly, like a horse.

‘You here need me way more. Byungjoo and Sangdo have each other, and your way to Yooncheol is long and dangerous. Come on, I really should join you.’

‘You yourself said you don’t need any trouble,’ Hansol remarked.

Sangwon scoffed again.

‘Now that I’m fetched, there’s nothing to worry about. Not like I’ll have time to get caught by the end of the day.’

‘But they don’t like you here,’ Hansol tried again.

‘And you, they love, but not the way you’d prefer them to,’ Sangwon retorted. ‘And look how big I am here. I still can whoop Jiho’s ass, even after those years in jail. You, on the other hand...’

He eyed Hansol head to toe skeptically. Hansol knew how miserable he looked. He was pencil thin and tiny – not at all the type to whoop anyone’s ass. But he didn’t need anyone going with him – and least of all Sangwon.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘But I need to go alone. Can you trust me?’

He looked up, into Sangwon’s eyes. He knew it had to work – or at least he expected it to, with how lovesick Sangwon was. He looked into his deep dark eyes beggingly. Sangwon accepted his gaze, raising his eyebrows slightly. For a brief moment, Hansol thought he won. Then, Sangwon knitted his eyebrows and shook his head ever so slightly.

‘No. No, I can’t risk you. You need to be safe and alive.’ He put his hands softly on Hansol’s shoulders, still looking into his eyes, from above. ‘Look, Hansolie. You really are in no position to argue. You just can’t go alone. Maybe they won’t kill you for fun, although even here you can’t be certain. But they will rape you, I’m pretty sure they will. They know who you are and what you are for here. And we don’t need that. I mean, the memories of the universes stay with us, however vaguely. And I don’t want something this disgusting to fuck you up for years after we’re safely out of here.’

His words burned, and Hansol felt unexpected rage stirring in his chest. He caught himself hating Sangwon in his entirety, together with his invasive love. He jerked his shoulders and stumbled back, freeing himself from the hands – too big and calloused for his liking.

‘Let me go! You’re making me sick!’

Sangwon’s eyes widened. He stepped away, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

‘I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I said something wrong again, didn’t I?’

Hansol shuddered with his entire body, almost involuntarily shaking off the feeling of Sangwon’s embrace – now it suddenly felt like he had been in a trap, and broke free.

‘Let me go! Leave me the fuck be!’ he spat out. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. ‘I don’t need you, you understand? I don’t need you going with me and playing the knight, alright? I’m not your bitch, and I’m not your damsel in distress! This is _my_ universe, Sangwon, and in _my_ universe you aren’t getting to play saviour. You hear me?!’

Sangwon took another step back, hands still raised, palms opened to Hansol. He bit onto his lower lip, looking desperate. But Hansol felt unstoppable now. He savoured the newly-found power that he had over this hunk – he never liked man like these, they made him terrified and disgusted, he always felt threatened by them, and now he could curse one of them all he wanted. His lips formed a smirk of a madman.

‘And don’t you dare touch me,’ he dropped, raising his chin. ‘Or follow me, or chase me. I know what a fucking creep you are, a creep and a liar. And I don’t care how much you want to fuck me, you’re never getting what you want. Now, I will go and find Yooncheol. And _he_ will go with me and help me, because, unlike you, he can be near me without it feeling like I’m an addition to him in an invented scenario. Goodbye, _Yano._ ’

And he turned sharply and strode down the street, away from Sangwon, digging his heels into the ground, not to see the despaired face and tear filled eyes of his friend.

‘Hansol!’ a trembling voice called from behind his back.

‘Go to the Big S!’ Hansol dropped, not even turning.

‘You don’t even know where to go!’

This sounded so begging Hansol’s heart dropped in realization of what he had just done.

‘I’ll find on my own!’ he shouted, trying his best not to sound desperate, but his voice broke into high pitch nevertheless – the lump in his throat was too big. He quickened his steps, and then ran headlong away, leaving Sangwon behind. Now he was almost certain he would never see him again.

* * *

He turned into a tiny alleyway between two walls – a fence of jagged wood and an overgrown hedge. Only there did he stop, turning to the opening, panting, but listening intently for any steps approaching him. He almost expected them, expected _someone_ to come chasing after him – but no one came. He was completely alone again. Hansol listened for a while more, until his breathing evened out, and then he dared walk out of his hideaway – it was dirty and smelled of piss. He looked around just to see a few people passing across the street. They weren’t looking at him. There was no trace of Sangwon anywhere. Hansol felt heavy in the chest.

 _I put my own oxygen mask first, -_ he thought. _I did the right thing – for myself and for Sangwon. He will be safe, and I will do what I must._

But sending his friend away didn’t seem like a safety precaution at all. Shouting such cruel things in his face wasn’t caring. At the back of his head, he understood it, however scared he was to think about it further. Now, Hansol was completely alone in an unfamiliar place. He left himself no way to find Yooncheol, or anybody else, and his only hope now was going to find Jiho.

Strangely enough, despite feeling like his chest was laden with iron, Hansol didn’t cry. Tears just didn’t come, the sucking pain was so powerful his body couldn’t even try to pour it out. He leaned onto the wooden fence and shut his eyes tight.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

In.

Out.

_Isn’t this what I wanted? I wanted him to leave me alone. I wanted to go on without him, I wanted him to go to the Big S. He did what I told him to do, I should feel alright about it, shouldn’t I?_

In fact, Hansol wasn’t sure any more what he had initially wanted. He always regretted being rude to Sangwon, but this time... Hansol realized he wasn’t, in fact, all that different from his strange, alien friends. His own dark side was creeping out more and more, consuming him, and he knew just the best way to stop it, the way he wouldn’t hurt anyone any more, the way this darkness inside him would be just gone, together with the entirety of him…

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

_I don’t need to think about that right now. No, I need to go and find the guys. They deserve to get out of this place, they suffered enough because of my idiocy. I need to go on._

He opened his eyes and pushed himself away from the fence – just as much a mental effort as it was physical. As he looked around, he realized the street he was on was even dirtier than the previous one, but somehow lit more brightly – or maybe the bright light simply revealed all the decay. Hansol turned and headed back, carefully checking the buildings he was passing.

* * *

Sangdo had described Batman’s den as having a freshly-painted yellow fence, and the light in the attic on at all times. _‘You will recognize it by the skylight, if nothing else,_ ’ he had said. ‘ _It’s always shining, at any time of day and night._ ’ None of the houses Hansol had passed as he was walking towards the junction had any similarities, so he had to turn and proceed further down the street. On his way, he checked every house again, and even crossed the street a few times, but the den was nowhere to be seen. For lack of anything better – anything _else –_ to do, Hansol walked on, slowly, eyes peeled, looking around.

The street was slowly coming to life. Lights in some houses were flickering on, cafes and bars scattered around opened their doors more and more often, revealing people inside. More passers-by passed Hansol, but he couldn’t help but point out that they were almost all men, almost all huge, and their heavy stares and blurred tattoos didn’t make them look any sweeter.

As the rage and desperation subsided, the pain returned, sharpened now, severe and tearing at Hansol’s insides. He tried to distract himself for a while, thinking that maybe it’d pass, but it never did. He had to slow down soon, and then slow down even more, until he wasn’t walking, but just dragging his feet heavily along, and still every step was excruciating, taking all of his willpower to just shift his weight to stay upright. Hansol couldn’t help pained hisses and tiny groans any more. Men passing him looked over at him, some whistled, some called disgusting things at his back. Hansol gritted his teeth and tried not to pay attention. None of those men actually approached him – _yet –_ and he tried to convince himself he was good. That didn’t quite work.

Pain made his body disobedient and rigid. Thoughts about Sangwon easily slipped from his mind, as did thoughts about Yooncheol, or any others – everything left, replaced by ache. Hansol felt sorry for himself – so _fucking_ sorry. His eyes filled with tears of pain blurring his vision, but Hansol didn’t care any more. He was used to heartache, to moral suffering – but not to physical pain. He hated it, even more than he hated himself – and he felt so miserable, lost and alone.

His shoulder bumped into something – and he blinked, reaching his hands to his face to rub his eyes dry. He cursed himself under his breath – _again I got myself into trouble! -_ but self-loathing was weaker than pain, and Hansol just stepped back, breathing in and out, trying to calm down.

‘He-ey, look what he have ‘ere!’ an unpleasant voice called from slightly above his head.

Hansol raised his head – and met the man face to face.

He wasn’t quite as tall as Sangwon was, or as wide. He looked  _Japanese,_ Hansol figured, and he looked a lot like a marten: narrow, slick and quick in his motions. He leaned over Hansol and squinted, examining him intently, like merchandise on the counter.

‘Aren’t you Butterfly Hansol?’ he asked – or stated, Hansol figured by his intonation he didn’t need a reply. ‘Hey, you guys, look who came around!’

‘Butterfly? He still can walk?!’ a mocking voice asked, over Hansol’s right ear, and he turned his head, startled. Another man, shorter, but wider, came up to him from the right. Hansol turned around slowly, just to see a few other men come up and close every way of escaping. Hansol was surrounded.

‘H-hello,’ he muttered.

‘Hello there,’ the Japanese man called from behind his back. ‘Whatcha doing here, Butterfly?’

‘I’m here… in business…’ Hansol managed, his voice choked and small.

‘In business? With whom?’ somebody else dropped. The voice was weird – as if the owner ate helium for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

‘I need Batman,’ Hansol said, turning slowly, examining the faces. In small spaces between men, he could see others walking by, not even turning their heads. No one paid attention.

‘Batman? Oh, nice, so we’re going in the same direction!’ the Japanese man gave a brief, barking laugh. ‘We’ll sure all be happy to help the pretty boy out. Maybe even give you a lift, must be difficult walking for you, huh?’

Hansol raised a pleading gaze to look into the man’s eyes.

‘Big S sent me,’ he tried. ‘I really have a thing to do here, and S-man asked me to be quick...’

‘Oh, who else could have sent you?’ the man smiled widely. His eyes got lost behind the apples of his cheeks, and he reminded Hansol even more of a quick, sleek predatory animal.

‘Please, I need to go,’ he tried again.

He realized a little too late that the men surrounding him were slowly pushing him off the brightly lit street and into another alley way between tall fences. He tried to stay put, but a painful dig in the back made him stumble forward. He yelped – and was immediately caught by a pair of strong hands. The men were dragging him off openly now, and Hansol realized what they would do.

‘ _They think you’re always available!’_

‘ _Don’t you know what his guys can do –_ _ **will do**_ _to you before they even let you see him?’_

‘ _That, before they… well, fuck you.’_

Hansol’s heart sunk deep, - and then jumped back up to pound in his throat.

‘Let me go!’ he shouted, trying desperately to free himself from the clammy hands grasping him. ‘Help! Help!’

The hands unclasped – but the others grabbed him immediately from aside. The light reaching his eyes was quickly dwindling. Somebody glanced in his direction, stopped and lingered for a moment – a big bearded man clad in leather, looking a lot like a biker.

‘Help me!’ Hansol cried, putting all the strength left in him into the desperate, pitched cry.

The biker looked intently into the alley way opening, squinting. And then he shrugged slightly, turned, and proceeded down the street, away. A few other people hurried by, glancing at Hansol briefly, and quickly turning away.

Hansol felt life itself slipping from him.

‘Let me go! S-man told me to hurry up!’ he cried desperately. Fear was thicker even than pain, and it overwhelmed him now.

‘Sh-h, we’ll be quick,’ a soothing, helium-filled voice whispered into Hansol’s ear. ‘Just gotta stretch you a little for Batman, he’s quite big, you know…’

‘Let me go! Help! HELP!’

A hand landed over his mouth softly.

‘Spare yourself the effort,’ a deep voice vibrated through Hansol’s body. ‘You’ll need some energy for other things. Look, I’m sure S-man will be glad to get a little more extra money. We have a lot to offer, along with greetings from Batman. I’m sure he won’t mind...’

Hansol struggled, his cries now just moans. He kicked desperately, but reached nothing. The next moment, a pair of legs squeezed his own, and another hand grabbed his neck.

‘Hush now, little butterfly, if you don’t want to soil your beautiful wings,’ the Japanese man said quietly, menacingly, emerging in front of his face.

Hansol gurgled something unintelligible. The grip on his throat was too strong, and he had to struggle to inhale, never getting enough. The light from the street was now almost completely gone from his sight, and the scarce twinkling that reached the alley way painted everything in eerie purples. Strong hands turned him around and bent his arms back painfully. Somebody fumbled with his belt.

‘Oh, look what he has!’ somebody whistled. ‘Such a nice gun, did S-man give you?’

Hansol gave out a high-pitched whine. He had totally forgotten about the gun. He barely felt the weight lift from his hips as someone pulled the belt out.

‘Oh, nice. I’ll take that, thank you. I’ll pay you after we’re done.’

Someone’s fingers reached for the button of Hansol’s jeans. Hansol made the last feeble attempt to fight, but a hand grabbed him across the stomach, and something hard slammed against his buttocks. A jolt of pain shot up Hansol’s spine, and he wheezed.

‘Oh, good boy, come on and moan. Your moans turn me on so well,’ somebody’s voice murmured over his head. The button finally came undone, and Hansol felt his hips slip out of the jeans. The world was rapidly running out – out of his field of vision. He tried to move his arms, his legs – and couldn’t. He was staring into the darkness of the alley way ahead, like into a bottomless pit or a crater of a volcano.

And then there was something – something that Hansol could only describe as a _glitch._ The pitch blackness in front of him suddenly shifted, pixelated, like video on a damaged disk, and flickered. Everything else stopped existing for a brief moment – Hansol stopped feeling anything at all, he seemingly turned entirely into eyes. And then a figure appeared instead of displaced squares – it was dark, but undoubtedly human, tall, wide, crowned with a pair of small pointy ears.

With it, the feelings returned, washing over Hansol in waves of humiliation and pain.

‘Hey you!’ came the voice. ‘The hell you doing there?!’

* * *

The hands grasping Hansol released him – all and at once. He dropped to the dirty, damp ground, and heaved, swallowing mouthfuls of air.

‘Boss!’ somebody exclaimed over his head. ‘Good that you came, boss!’

'Nice to see you, boss!'

‘I asked, what the hell are you doing here?’ the voice demanded again. It rang steel, but Hansol recognized it immediately.

 _Jiho! -_ he wanted to cry, but his vocal chords didn’t obey, and he just wheezed, dropping his head back to the ground.

‘We met somebody that wanted to see you, boss,’ the Japanese man’s voice mumbled obligingly.

‘Then why the hell didn’t he see me still?’ Jiho dropped. He had iron words, and they seemed to give heavy _thuds_ as they dropped to the ground. ‘Who is that?’

‘Butterfly Hansol, boss,’ someone explained quickly.

‘What?’

Hansol squeezed his eyes shut, hearing his own name.

‘He says that S-man sent him.’

Jiho scoffed loudly.

‘What?! I never ordered. What the hell does S-man have with me that he sends a fucking whore, instead of coming himself?’

His words fell onto Hansol’s head, like anvils – but he already felt like he had gathered what little strength he had to try and fetch Jiho.

‘I need to talk to you… alone...’ he managed, hoarsely, lifting his heavy head.

Jiho spared him just a glance – disgusted, as if Hansol was just another piece of rubbish lying on the asphalt. Hansol could tell, even thought Jiho’s face was obscured by a plastic Batman mask. He was big, really big – not simply because of size, but because of confidence, because of strength radiating from him in blast waves, crashing onto others and swiping them off their feet. The gangsters, just moments ago so confident and certain of their impunity, shrank in front of him, peeking into the eyeholes of the mask with servility.

‘Who told you it was okay to fuck whores sent to _me_?’ Jiho asked, his voice even, but metal.

The gangsters remained silent, shifting ever so slightly, stooping lower.

‘I’m talking to you, answer me,’ Jiho’s voice rang over Hansol — a heavy ball shooting out of a cannon.

‘What, boss?’ someone dared ask – and trailed off quickly.

‘Who. Let. You. Fuck. My. Whores?!’

Hansol felt like his heart was about to burst.

‘Jiho!’ he called, pleadingly, shuffling with effort to sit up. ‘Jiho, please!’

Batman froze. He turned his head excruciatingly slowly, to look at Hansol down at his feet. Hansol reached his hand out and grasped Jiho’s shin.

‘What did you just say?..’ Jiho asked, as in his surprised voice Hansol heard pure, concentrated rage. But Jiho was looking into his eyes, and it was now or never, so he had to – had to defeat his terror.

‘Jiho...’ he muttered. ‘Please...’

Something broke almost audibly, like a string. There was a moment of stillness, in which Hansol felt the dying vibration. Then, Jiho reached his trembling hand for the mask and pulled it off.

‘H-Hansolie?!’ he muttered. ‘Oh my god, oh fuck!’

* * *

Sangwon and Sangdo had been right, there was little in this man reminding Jiho that Hansol knew. He towered over Hansol, still radiating power from his very stance. And then the mask dropped to the ground, and then dropped Jiho – he fell to his knees, holding his arms out, and Hansol saw his face right in front of his own, for a brief moment. If he didn’t know that this face belonged to Shin Jiho upon seeing it, he would have thought certain death had decided to reveal itself to him.

Jiho’s face was a mess – not a cute, dishevelled mess of a _bad boy_ , but a disfigured mess, smashed and patched together, and then smashed again. His gaze brushed Hansol’s face anxiously – the gaze of a single right eye. His left was glazed over with opaque whiteness, a scar running across it, not letting it properly open. His nose was broken twice, or maybe more, flattened, running in a double curve. Dark tattoos on his cheeks obscured the uneven relief of crooked scars. His lips were chapped, one of them clearly patched not long ago. His buzzcut didn’t hide his ears – one of them broken and bulging weirdly.

Hansol only felt Jiho’s lips scratch his cheekbone tenderly, before he was enveloped entirely in thick, sweaty mass of his huge body. Hansol expected him to have a chokehold hug – but Jiho held him to his chest softly, like a lover.

‘Out!’ his voice thundered over Hansol's ear – and the sound of shuffled steps signified the gangsters’ prompt runaway. Hansol inhaled Jiho’s ugly smell and shut his eyes tight, letting his friend pepper his face with tiny kisses, stroking his hair and sobbing over his ear.

‘Oh god! Oh my dear! What have they done to you?! How dare they hurt you?! Oh goodness, oh goodness!’

Jiho switched so easily between two states, Hansol thought absently. He had that cool and emotionless facade, on one hand, and on the other his passionate inner side, easy to slip out, of which Jiho was never quite ashamed. In fact, if anything, he was proud – like of basically anything he did.

He wasn’t at all like Sangdo, whose sweetness and soft heart were out there for others. Jiho’s heart was mostly for himself. He knew where to offer it – and then he knew just as well when to take it back. He decided it with himself only, so it wasn’t always convenient for others – but Jiho never tried to be convenient for others. He was unapologetically himself, _for_ himself, and Hansol always wondered how he managed that.

Jiho moved him softly away from his chest, letting Hansol inhale the cool air.

‘Hey! Hey, look at me!’

Hansol focused on the disfigured face in front of him. It had an anxious expression, eyebrows raised – or, more like, _one_ eyebrow. The one over the blind eye was almost entirely replaced by scar tissue.

‘You recognize me, right? _Right?_ ’

Hansol looked intently at Jiho’s face, trying to fight back sudden fatigue. There was _nothing_ from Jiho in the man in front of him. His voice was broken and his face maimed. But somehow, - maybe by his facial expressions, or maybe by his intonations, or maybe by the way his own face was still tingling with tiny scratchy kisses – Hansol knew unmistakeably who that was.

‘I do,’ he nodded, ever so slightly. ‘Nice to see you, Batman.’

Jiho gave a quiet ‘oh’ and drew Hansol in again. This time, Hansol threw his arms around Jiho as well, and shut his eyes.

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said.

Jiho moved quickly away from him, peeking into his face.

‘I’m glad I’m here, too,’ he said seriously. ‘It’s sheer luck, I don’t know why I was in such a hurry to get here – but I did. It was almost like my way was shrinking in front of me.’

Hansol raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

‘Well… to me, it was like you basically glitched in to save me.’

Jiho scoffed, - or at least his face crinkled in an attempt to do so.

‘Glitched in? That’s weird.’

Hansol nodded.

‘It was. Looked like, you know, like I was watching an old damaged VHS.’

Jiho shrugged, glancing away.

‘Maybe you shouldn’t think too much about it. And I mean, about this entire incident. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through this!’

He looked up at Hansol again, his eyebrow raised almost beggingly. Hansol tried to smile, but he felt like he didn’t much succeed.

‘Well, I guess I’m alright, in the end. Those guys didn’t have time to actually _do_ anything.’

That was a lie, that he was alright. In fact, it didn’t matter to him if _those guys_ did something to him or not – he felt small, violated – and tired, immensely tired.

_How much I would give to just lay down and fall asleep, and never wake up…_

Jiho shook his head.

‘I hope you are. I’m guessing, you already fetched Sangdo, right?’

Hansol nodded, grateful to him for changing the subject.

‘Yeah. Sangdo, Byungjoo and… Sangwon.’

He made a tiny pause before the name, but Jiho didn’t seem to pay it any attention. He raised his eyebrows.

‘Sangwon? Guess we’re lucky he’s already out of prison. He was pretty buff far as I remember him...’ he trailed off and frowned. ‘Why isn’t he with you?’

Hansol gave a deep sigh. He didn’t quite have the energy to explain himself now.

‘I sent him to the Big S,’ he said. ‘To stay there with Sangdo and Byungjoo. I didn’t need him, he’s just trouble.’

Jiho looked away and scratched his head.

‘I thought you were batshit crazy when you said that,’ he admitted finally,’ but now that I think about it, you’re probably right. Having the much-hated past boss of the area with you is like having a gangster bait on, you know? Although he probably could save you at least _some_ trouble with those gangsters.’

Hansol shook his head.

‘Yeah, right, just for me to run away and leave him behind for death.’

Jiho nodded thoughtfully.

‘Fair enough. So I guess it leaves me no choice,’ he gave a crooked smile. ‘I need to go with you, and protect you from different fuckers like those.’

Hansol gave a long, slow exhale through his nose. The fatigue was growing behind his eyelids. The ache was stronger than ever. He reached behind himself, shamelessly pushed his hand into his jeans and rubbed.

Jiho didn’t acknowledge his motion anyhow. He glanced around, fetched his mask from the ground, and stood up heavily.

‘Do you even know where we need to go?’ Hansol asked, glancing up at him. ‘I wanted to find Yooncheol, Sangwon told me he’s a drug dealer – or at least he was. Do you know where he is now?.. What?’

As Jiho listened, his hand, previously held out to help Hansol rise, lowered, and his lips crooked in an almost pained expression.

‘Yooncheol… I guess you don’t wanna see him now,’ he muttered. ‘He’s… not a drug dealer any more, I’m not even sure what he is. Or if he’s still alive for that matter – I mean, I wasn’t sure until you mentioned him… for the game, he must be, right?..’

‘What happened to him?’ Hansol asked, carefully, feeling unpleasant heavy lump forming in his throat.

‘I… don’t know!’ Jiho tried to pull off a smile, but with his disobedient face and anxious voice he didn’t quite make it. ‘All I know is he started getting harder on drugs some time ago, and then sorta like… disappeared.’

‘Oh my.’

Jiho nodded, licking his lips – and hissing immediately as his tongue touched the patched crack.

‘The fair guess is – you can go to where he used to live. There was a caravan, not all that far from here, and I’m pretty sure the one who lives there still deals, - something light, I mean, and that’s definitely not Yooncheol any more. They might know where he is, however.’

‘I need to find him,’ Hansol said quickly, resolutely, pushing himself off the ground – the pain echoed through his legs but he didn’t quite care.

‘Wait,’ Jiho raised a hand preventively. ‘Do you even want to know about the others? I mean, I get that you wanna find Yooncheol, but we don’t even know exactly where he might be, you should go for someone else first.’

Hansol looked at him intently.

‘What do you know?’ he asked, impatiently.

Jiho stretched his neck with two loud cracks.

‘Well, I know about Sanggyunie.’

‘The thief?’

Jiho nodded.

‘Did Sangwon tell you? Yeah, he’s still a thief. More like, a tiny scared shoplifter. Always getting beaten and all that. But now he’s under, you know, _protection,_ if you can call it that. A small gang’s leader likes watching him getting his ass kicked for funs. The gang leader being Sehyuk I think you might be interested in finding those.’

Hansol chewed on his lip, taking a few careful steps back to lean onto the fence. It was disgustingly sticky, but Hansol needed any support he could get.

‘Sangwon told me you can’t really find Sanggyun on purpose.’

Jiho scoffed.

‘That’s probably because he never did _look_ for him on purpose. At this time of night he’s most probably hanging out in the park, drinking what beer he could take away and picking up fights. And Sehyuk is around there as well, and his gangsters, too, gathering the spectators and maybe throwing the guy a coin or two for the show.’

Hansol moved his shoulders uneasily.

‘Sounds miserable to me.’

‘If you really stop to think about it, it is.’

They were both silent for a little while. Then, Jiho shook himself and straightened.

‘Look, we’ll pity them later. We should much better go and save them from that miserable life they’re leading now, right?’

Hansol chewed his lower lip uneasily. He had expected and feared this moment.

‘Not _we_ ,’ he said, finally. ‘You go to the Big S. There, at least, I will be able to find you all.’

Jiho frowned slightly – or as much as his disobedient forehead allowed.

‘You serious? I mean, you already saw what people here can do to you when you go on alone. It’s just not safe.’

‘I have a gun,’ Hansol blurted out bravely.

Jiho scoffed.

‘Where? Are you hiding it in your...’

And he trailed off, as if confused about the appropriateness of the joke. Hansol wasn’t thinking about it. He reached his hand to his hips, where the belt used to be – but felt nothing. He looked around hastily, but the belt or the holster were nowhere to be seen. Hansol raised a helpless stare at Jiho.

‘They stole it!’

Jiho’s face twitched as he glanced to the opening of the alley way.

‘Then it’s decided. I’m going with you.’

Hansol huffed.

‘You can’t.’

‘Of course I can, what do you mean?’ Jiho cocked his head, and Hansol suddenly saw the real Jiho clearly behind the disfigured face. ‘You almost got raped seconds ago, just due to the mere fact that you’re… from the Big S, and alone, and that these men think they’re entitled to you. I won’t agree to putting you, or anyone else, in danger. I’m going with.’

Hansol pushed himself away from the fence and stood, his feet wide apart, blocking Jiho’s way.

‘If it’s dangerous to me, it’s dangerous to you,’ he pointed out.

‘I’m stronger than you – _and_ bigger.’

‘Which is why it’s even more dangerous for you.’

Jiho scoffed, putting his hand on his hip.

‘Come think about it,’ Hansol insisted. ‘It takes much less to scare someone like me, - or at least so they think. A pair of strong hands, that is. However, to scare someone like you, it takes a gun, and probably not one. If someone wants to attack you, they will be much stronger.’

‘No one here dares attack _me,’_ Jiho said, and his voice vibrated deep.

Hansol swallowed hard.

‘It's not like I deserve any of your help,' he blurted out, 'it’s I who dragged us into this trouble, and I need to sort this out.’

Jiho squinted.

‘The fuck do you mean?..’

Hansol felt his heart fall deep, leaving a sucking black hole in his chest.  _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Who do I always need to say that? Why the fuck?.._

‘I’ll tell you later,’ he muttered, taking a step back. ‘I’ll tell you all, if only you let me go now, alright? I don’t want to inflict any danger on you.’

Jiho was silent for a few minutes more. Then, he changed in the face.

‘Okay,’ he said, quietly. ‘If you say so.’

He grabbed the rim of his tee – and pulled it off, revealing a Kevlar vest.

‘You’re gonna need this one more than I do,’ he said, unfastening it with slightly trembling hands.

Hansol opened his mouth to object, but Jiho had already pulled the vest off, revealing his enormous body. His skin was visibly chafed where the protection was hugging him on the shoulders and under the arms.

‘I won’t give you a gun,’ he said, coming up to Hansol, and putting the vest on him, right over his own top. ‘You aren’t used to firing it. You won’t pull it out when needed, you know? People in stressful situations only do what they’re used to doing. Protection, however, is always good...’

He fastened the vest on Hansol’s shoulders. It smelled foul, and Hansol pulled a little face. Jiho smiled slightly.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Batman seems to be all out of deodorant. You’ll walk it out, though, fairly quickly I hope.’

‘Hope so,’ Hansol nodded.

‘Be safe,’ Jiho said, patting him on the back, before pulling his tee back on.

They walked out of the alley way together. Jiho told Hansol how to go to the park before they parted ways. Hansol asked where the caravan was where Yooncheol used to live, and Jiho waved his hand in the same direction. _It’s on your way,_ \- he said. Hansol wondered at how easily Jiho let him go alone. He was sure he would try to follow. He looked over his shoulder as he was leaving. Jiho stood there, leaning on the fence, watching him intently. Hansol turned away, quickening his steps. He tried his best to get lost among the people – although it wasn’t so easy, because while they were dressed casually, he was clad in a coarse, stinky Kevlar vest. Besides, the ever-present knowing of _who_ he was seemed to seep through the air around him.

When he looked over his shoulder again, Jiho had already disappeared.

* * *

Now Hansol was walking quicker. The encounter with Jiho sobered him up, and he was clearly, vibrantly present, like he hadn’t been ever since he woke up. Now, the haze was gone, and with this newfound crispness the pain was stronger, but so was his aim. Hansol felt himself in the _now_ , and even the assault that had almost happened seemed unreal. The thoughts tangling in his head were loud and anxious, as were his steps – or maybe it just seemed to him. He didn’t hear if anyone was saying anything to him any more. He hurried through the streets, looking around intently, searching for a caravan – or, more like, the one of several that wouldn’t look like it was abandoned.

Guilt was nagging at his heart, and Hansol tried his best to silence it with his own footsteps. And still his thoughts returned to Sangwon time and time again, demanding to be thought trough till the end.

Today was the first time Hansol really lashed out at Sangwon, - and the first time he openly acknowledged his affections. Acknowledged as having been known to him for a long while – and as unwelcome. Hansol didn’t want to think twice about the way he had worded that. He couldn’t help wondering at himself, and at how cruel it was: to admit that he had known all along – and that he had no intention whatsoever to reciprocate, moreover, that he was _disgusted,_ perhaps too disgusted to even admit it.

_I was simply leading him on all the while, poor love-blinded Sangwonie! And I thought the other guys were being like monsters for revealing their worries and fears. No, I am – I am the true monster._

Hansol licked the blood off his lower lip – he hadn’t noticed when he started biting on it so fiercely. He couldn’t see anything like a caravan anywhere near now, and he could use that distraction. Sangwon’s desperate face appeared on the dark background of his eyelids whenever he blinked, - his lips trembling, his eyes begging, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He was so quick, easy, so ready to surrender, and so _Sangwon_ behind the mask of a buff ex-inmate.

_I failed to see the real him. I hurt him. I broke his heart, and I will never be able to look into his eyes again. No, it’s better to get lost in these universes, it’s better to just die, I don’t want to exist with having said that. I don’t wanna exist as a monster. I don’t…_

He didn’t know what would happen if he didn’t fall asleep with all the others, and that thought itched at the back of his head all the time. Cowing out like that could simply abort the game, throwing them all out into reality, or it could _break_ the game, trapping them all inside, or it could trap Hansol himself in an endless streak of iterations, without a possibility to kill himself out of that – he would just wake up as someone else.

Being completely honest with himself, he didn’t see a way out. His pace quickened more and more, - he wasn’t even thinking of the pain any more. His head was filled with Sangwon: he was standing to his full height inside Hansol’s mind, thin, silent, staring reproachfully. The sound of his heart shattering into thousands of pieces, again and again, was ringing in Hansol ears, louder with every step. Hansol bit harder into his bloodied lips, trying to make the pain stronger, but the ringing just kept on getting louder, vibrating and droning through his brain, as if something wanted him to go completely crazy. Barely registering where he was going, Hansol took a turn, and then another, until he found himself in a backstreet, lit by just one crooked streetlight, and a few dim lights from the windows. Hansol stopped under a huge tree casting a sprawling black shadow on the ground. He crouched down, and huddled down there, into the dark, leaned back into the coarse bark, and clutched his head with his hands. The ringing had turned into white noise, and the stare of the virtual Sangwon in his head had gone from reproachful to downright accusatory.

 _It’s my fault. I hurt him. I was hurting him all that time. I did everything to make it the most painful to him, and then – then I was_ _**glad** _ _that I managed to hurt him that much. What’s wrong with me?! When did I become that cruel? When did I become this stupid?_

‘ _It’s not your fault,’ -_ a voice suddenly broke through the noise, and although it was calm and even, to Hansol’s heated mind it sounded thunderous. His head jolted up and he looked around – the voice had been so clear he was sure it was coming from somewhere outside.

At once, the white noise subsided. Hansol found himself in the middle of a pool of silence – sweet dark silence of a calm backstreet, completely empty now, free of any danger. The leaves of the tree were rustling over his head ever so slightly, giving the quiet some life. From the darkness, Hansol looked outside, at the dimly lit street, and realized that the voice that had ripped him out of his fit had been in his head. It was the voice from his memory. It was _Yooncheol’s_ voice.

‘ _It’s not your fault. I mean, you didn’t do anything to get his attention, - you didn’t even do anything you normally wouldn’t do with your friends. It’s not your problem he got a boner.’_

The light was pouring in wild through the glass walls of the patio. The greenery was as bright as always, something even bloomed, giving out a crazed sweet smell.

He had winced then, as if he had been physically hurt.

‘ _No, don’t say that.’_

‘ _Sorry. Fine, I’ll reword. It’s not your problem that he likes you, and you shouldn’t think it’s somehow morally wrong to tell him it bothers you.’_

He remembered looking at Yooncheol, - and meeting his careful stare. Yooncheol was sitting on the bench, his one leg tucked in, resting his chin on the top of his knee. He didn’t seem impatient, and he sure didn’t sound like he was implying Hansol was being bad or slow, so he decided to confess:

‘ _I just can’t help thinking how much it will hurt him. I can put myself on his place, you know. And I can imagine what I would feel.’_

‘ _What_ _ **would**_ _you feel?’_

Hansol looked down.

‘ _I would feel lost. I would feel guilty for even believing I could be loved by that person. I would feel unworthy and lonely.’_

Yooncheol sighed. He shook his head – and his bangs, crispy with all the dyeing, spilled right into his eyes. He huffed, trying to blow them back.

‘ _And even if that’s true for Sangwon – which I’m sure it isn’t… would_ _ **you**_ _blame your love interest for making you feel as you described?’_

Hansol shook his head firmly.

‘ _No. And, you know, that’s the thing – I wouldn’t blame them. I would blame myself. And I don’t want Sangwon blaming himself. He’s a great person, and he’s my friend. And if there’s a chance that he would feel like I described – I’d rather keep silent.’_

Yooncheol gave a long, noisy exhale through his nose, and reached his hand up to pinch his lower lip. He did that sometimes, when he was anxious and didn’t know what to say. There were a few moments of silence, which Hansol didn’t bother to fill.

‘ _Okay,’_ Yooncheol said finally, slowly. _‘_ _This is about you and him, and I can’t really tell you what to do. But I have thoughts about this whole situation, and I can tell you what I think, if you wanna know it.’_

Hansol nodded. He always wanted to know what Yooncheol thought about situations – his thoughts were always so logical and clear, unlike Hansol’s own.

‘ _Well, what I think,’_ Yooncheol said, _‘_ _is that you really aren’t responsible for Sangwon’s feelings. They’re his own to live with and to decide what to do with. Moreover, Sangwon is really thoughtful and smart, or at least I believe so. And if he decided to try and let you know that he has feelings for you, he is prepared for any answer you might give – be it acceptance or rejection. That’s first of all. And second of all, if you ask me, I think his advances are far from healthy. I mean, if a person isn’t openly interested in you, it’s obvious – and to Sangwon it must be pretty obvious by now. I think he willingly ignores the fact that you aren’t interested because he believes that relationships work like that: if you try hard enough you might just get accepted. So he’s being pushy. And he needs to understand that it doesn’t work. And if_ _ **you**_ _explain that to him, there’s a fair chance he’ll listen to you as his love interest.’_

Hansol gave a quiet, short whine.

‘ _But I understand where you’re coming from,’_ Yooncheol said quickly. _‘_ _And you don’t have to educate him. Hell, you don’t even have to listen to me. As I said, it’s about you and him.’_

‘ _Maybe you should tell him all that?..’_ Hansol raised begging eyes at Yooncheol. But Yooncheol just shook his head.

‘ _No. This is none of my business. Sangwon isn’t in love with_ _ **me,**_ _\- I don’t even think he knows that we have been discussing this, and I don’t think he should know._ _And besides,_ _ **that’d**_ _be cruel – to send someone else to announce rejection. This is like breaking up via someone else. It’s plain unfair.’_

Hansol buried his face in his hands and remained silent. Yooncheol sighed over him. His big cool palm stroked short hair on the back of Hansol’s head.

‘ _I really need to go now,’_ he said. _‘_ _But whatever you do, I just need you to know: nothing of this is your fault. His feelings are not your fault, and don’t belong to you. You know, as they say it: beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If he sees something good in you, something he loves – it’s his. And you’re free not to accept it. And you know...’_ he paused for a second. His hand was still resting on Hansol’s hair. _‘_ _You know, it’s okay to make a wrong decision and to be wrong, too. It’s normal. So you shouldn’t be cruel to yourself over it. Take care, Hansolie.’_

And he rose and left. In his head, Hansol heard a door click close behind him – and he found himself alone in his own mind again. The judgmental ghost of Sangwon was gone now, and so was Yooncheol’s healing presence. He was surrounded by pleasant silence of peace, as if the entire game wasn’t real, and had been just a bad dream.

Hansol rose slowly, feeling his hands up the trunk of the tree. The feeling of coarse bark was sobering. Hansol took a deep breath and walked out of rustling darkness. Dim light greeted him, but it wasn’t eerie. It let his eyes adjust, and it gave him time to gather up his thoughts. Hansol sighed and took a step forward.

He remembered vaguely where he had turned to get into that backstreet. He walked slowly, listening to his own footsteps. He turned, and then turned again – and across the road from himself he suddenly saw a caravan. He didn’t remember seeing it there before – but he hardly remembered even looking there, either. It was lit from inside with warm light, and looked _inhabited._ Hansol felt his heart start to pound in anticipation. He checked both sides of the road – it was empty, - and hurried towards the caravan.

* * *

He lowered his hand again and shifted on his feet. Upon the third examination, he still couldn’t see any doorbell anywhere. Fear was starting to creep into his mind, and he was trying his best to keep his breathing even. He didn’t know who might wait behind that door. His imagination, a little too vivid, as always, painted him pictures that in no way helped his state.

He raised his hand yet again, but at that moment something shuffled inside the caravan, and he heard muffled whispered curses. Something fell down loudly, and the curses grew louder, too, - the same one voice.

‘Ida! Ida, pick that shit up, somebody’s at the door!’ it called, and then the door clicked open a crack, and a figure leaned onto the door frame, obscuring the interior from Hansol’s eyes. A short dark-skinned woman looked at him from slightly above, standing on the top step of makeshift stairs.

‘Looking for anybody?’ she asked in a thick, throaty voice.

She didn’t seem angry, just a little impatient. Her careful black eyes were scanning Hansol slowly. He realized, a little too late, that he didn’t even know what the name was of who he was looking for. He glanced around nervously.

‘Are you, by any chance...’ he began, but trailed off, trying to choose words carefully. ‘Do you deal?’

He had to lower his voice, and felt like an embarrassed schoolboy for doing so. The woman squinted at him, as if she couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

‘What?’ she asked, as if Hansol said something so ridiculous she had to give him a second chance to redeem himself.

‘Uh...’ he muttered, cursing himself silently for even knocking on the door in the first place.

‘Kid, you wanted anything?’ the woman insisted. Hansol decided he had to do it, whatever it was that he had to do, for the sake of finding Yooncheol.

‘I’m… looking for the local drug dealer,’ he said, quickly, and it turned out a little louder than he had expected.

The woman changed in the face. She glanced around, pushed herself away from the frame, stepped away and opened the door wider.

‘Come in,’ she said briskly. ‘Quick.’

She pointed to the inside of the house with her chin, emphasizing the demand. Hansol hurried to obey. As soon as he slipped in, the woman shut the door behind his back and locked it – he heard a click. Hansol physically felt his emergency exit close and disappear.

The soft carpet gave under his sneakers, and he stopped hesitantly. He glanced at the owner’s feet. She had rubber slippers on, and he couldn’t tell if those were for home or not. He shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do or say. He stared at the woman silently, waiting for whatever she invited him inside for.

She looked much younger in the light inside the room. She couldn’t be older than twenty-five, Hansol figured. As she locked the door, she turned and eyed Hansol up and down busily. She didn’t seem eager to say anything, and he felt uneasy in the forced silence, so he had to look away. That’s when he realized they weren’t alone. In the middle of the room, right on the floor, on colourful soft blankets and pillows, sat three other girls. Each had a drink in hand, and their glances at Hansol were quietly displeased.

‘Okay, look, lad,’ the owner called, at length. Hansol turned to her quickly. ‘I let you in, but don’t think you’re here for long. First off, I’m busy. But more importantly…’

She paused and looked him up and down again. Under her stare Hansol felt small. Unconsciously, he grabbed his left arm and started rubbing it with his thumb. The girl’s stare stopped briefly at his fidgety hand.

‘More importantly,’ she said finally, ‘you gotta understand, honey, even _if_ I dealt, I wouldn’t deal to a kid who doesn’t even look of age. How old’re you?’

Hansol chewed on his lip.

‘Twenty-four. And… I’m not here for the drugs.’

The girls sitting on the floor puffed. One of them hid her face behind her hand. Hansol shot her a glance and rubbed his arm even more fiercely. He felt his ears burn with embarrassment. The caravan had seemed an island of safety at first, warmly lit and filled with young women, but now he desperately wanted to leave.

_Even if they know where Yooncheol is, they won’t tell me. Fuck._

The dealer – Hansol assumed the first girl _was_ indeed the dealer – let out a loud breath, coming closer to him.

‘Hey, I seen your face somewhere. Do I know you?’

_Fuck._

He glanced up at the girl and took a tiny step back. Now that she was so close, he could appreciate the view of her thick, muscly arms folded on her chest. She was big, stronger than Hansol, - and she clearly wasn’t glad to see him.

_Is everyone here this ripped?_

The girl peeked into his face and squinted harder.

‘He-ey, aren’t you that Butterfly guy?’

‘Butterfly?’ a voice greeted from behind the dealer’s back. ‘Machie, is that Butterfly?’

The dealer turned to the voice.

‘Looks like,’ she hemmed, stepping back. ‘Know him just briefly, you remember.’

Hansol shrank at the familiar nickname. A taller girl, muscular too, however leaner, her skin just a shade darker that Machie’s, came closer, rubbing her wet hands dry on her colourful shorts. Her face was glowing with a wide, gummy smile.

‘Ooh, nice to see you!’ she exclaimed, throwing her hands around Hansol and hugging him tightly and heartily. ‘So good that you came today! I promised to have you meet my girls, remember? So, could be today, I’m sure they won’t mind.’

‘Is _that_ the Butterfly you were buzzing about?’ one of the girls asked from where she was resting on the floor, her long legs outstretched on a long line of small pillows. ‘Gotta say I imagined him a lil’ different.’

‘I _remember_ him different, to tell ya more,’ Machie hemmed, leaning onto the wall, piercing Hansol with a stare still distrustful.

‘Well, you've only seen him like once,’ the taller girl remarked. ‘And I don’t think there was enough light in the club that day, huh?’

Machie shook her head, letting out a loud breath.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘he came here, looked scared shitless, like a damn highschooler caught redhanded. And told me he wasn’t here for, _you know, drugs.’_ She mocked Hansol’s intonation expressively and badly, and her finger pointed at her friend: _‘_ That looks hella suspicious, if you ask me. And, well, with enough light he looks, you know, like twelve. _’_

The taller girl scoffed.

‘Oh please, he’s twenty-four.’

‘You could never know, with S-man,’ another girl called from the floor. She drained her beer can, and reached for another. A gem sparkled brightly in the ring on her slender finger.

The tall girl laughed briefly, uneasily.

‘That Sangdo man is a shitty motherfucker for sure, but I don’t think he has boys under eighteen.’

‘You don’t think, and I _know_ he does.’

The tall girl frowned.

‘For real?! You must be shitting me!’

The other nodded, cracking the can open. Her light eyes sparkled as she looked at her friend over her beer.

‘Nah. My friend seen them. He doesn’t let them out, hides them indoors so no one finds out.’

‘How’d they know then?’

The girl took a big sip.

‘He wanted a boy, y’know. Had no luck with guys for a while and got blue balls. So he resorted to Big S, well, you know how it is. Came to the club, had a couple beers, and then, you know...’ she jerked her head meaningfully, ‘went to the back. Told me, he went into the room, and there was a kid, like, a highschooler at most. Eyes all terrified, looked like he had been bawling all night.’

‘No way,’ Machie exhaled. She had turned to her friend, listening intently.

The other girl nodded. Her face was serious, but she couldn’t help looking unforgivably satisfied.

‘Uh-huh.’

‘And what’d he do? Was that that fucker Hiro?’

‘Ya, him. Well, what’d ya think he do. Went to S man and told him he wasn’t a fucking pedo and he wanted somebody with at least some hair around his dick. So in the end of the day, got what he wanted.’

‘And he didn’t say anything else?!’ Machie slapped her hips.

‘Said ‘twas none of his business,’ the girl shrugged. ‘I decided not to say anything, he was drunk and angry tellin’ me that.’

The taller girl shook her head, bending down and putting her hands on her knees. Her lower lip jutted out, and she breathed heavily, as if she was holding back the hottest fury.

‘What a motherfucker! Lora, give me a beer.’

The storyteller reached for another can and handed it to Machie.

‘Was the last one,’ she said with another little shrug.

‘I planned on opening tequila anyway,’ Machie replied grimly, cracking the beer open.

Hansol, forgotten and feeling irrelevant, decided to quietly withdraw. He took a little step back, trying to be as quiet as possible. A little bit too late, he realized that what he stepped on wasn’t solid floor. It rolled forth, - a skateboard, - and Hansol yelped, stumbled – and landed hard on his bottom.

The pain that shot through his body blinded him for a second. He gave a pitched cry and curled up on the floor, eyes shut tight. His heart was thunderous in his ears.

‘Oh fuck!’ someone exclaimed. ‘Machie, you gotta throw that stuff away at last!’

‘Shut up,’ Machie snapped. ‘Hey! Hey, you okay? Kid, answer me!’

‘Butterfly!’

Hansol winced. The pain was quickly subsiding, becoming bleaker, bearable.

‘Please... ugh... don’t call me Butterfly,’ he hissed, opening his eyes and wiping his cheeks quickly. ‘It’s Hansol. Please.’

His eyes were still teary, but he was already returning to his senses.

‘S-sorry,’ the taller girl’s voice sounded right over his ear. ‘You yourself asked me not to call you Hansol before.’

Hansol huffed, struggling to sit up. The pain was getting lighter now, but his entire body was trembly and soft. The taller girl pushed his back slightly, holding him upright.

‘Thanks,’ Hansol managed, softly, trying to turn to her. ‘Thanks, uh… um…’

‘Chim, gimme that pillow,’ Machie called over her shoulder. The long-legged girl pulled two of the pillows from under her legs and tossed them at Hansol. Machie caught them right in front of his face and tucked them between his back and the wall, as her taller friend had already turned Hansol to sit more comfortably.

‘Th-thank you,’ Hansol muttered, tucking his legs under himself. ‘I… should go soon...’

‘Yeah, right when you’re able,’ Machie huffed busily. ‘You sit here now and calm down. You said you came here in business, but not to buy any stuff, so meanwhile you can tell us what is it you want.’

The taller girl tucked Hansol in and ruffled his hair.

‘Want a drink?’ she asked softly.

‘N-no, thanks,’ Hansol muttered with a little lost smile.

‘Cola, then?’

‘Uh...’

The girl smiled and tapped his shoulder playfully.

‘Oh come on. You gotta take something. Let us exercise in hospitality.’

Hansol forced out a little smile.

‘Cola it is, then?’

‘Much better,’ the girl nodded, rising. Taking wide, loud steps, she disappeared in one of the side rooms.

Meanwhile, the other girls were reclaiming their seats on the floor. Long-legged Chim fixed the pillows under her legs evenly again, stealing glances at the two behind Hansol’s back – she seemed to be more concerned with her comfort having been disturbed than with Hansol’s well-being. Lora the storyteller finished her beer – it wasn’t her second, judging by the empty cans beside her, but she wasn’t showing any signs on drunkenness, just of quiet boredom without a possibility to impress her friends now. The third girl, who had been quiet and whom nobody had addressed thus far, tucked her legs under herself, and took another sip from her beer can. Her stare, heavy and intent because of her large transparent eyes and low brows, was piercing every one in turn. Hansol wondered if she was Ida, or if he had misheard.

Machie sat down at the same distance from Hansol as from her friends, a bit further away, hugging her knees. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular, and Hansol couldn’t see her face, but somehow he guessed that she still wasn’t glad to see him at her house.

‘Machie?’ he called, uncertainly. ‘Can I call you that?..’

Machie hemmed, turning her side profile to him. She still wasn’t looking at anything in particular.

‘Yeah, Machie it is.’

‘You… don’t need to worry. I won’t be here long. I mean, your friend seems to want me to stay, but I really need to hurry. I’m feeling much better already.’

Machie gave a tiny grin.

‘I’m not worrying. If I will need you to go, I can throw you out easily, so that’s no concern.’

Hansol looked down. He knew she was right.

‘Huh, whoever here even wants you to stay?’

That wasn’t Machie’s voice, or Lora’s, or the tall girl’s. It was deeper, a little vibrating. Hansol raised his head to look at the girls – Chim sent him a glance from under half-closed eyelids, her head thrown back. He gave a little shrug. The answer was obvious.

‘Well, you know...’ he waved his hand in the direction of where the girl had disappeared. ‘That...’

 _That tall one, -_ almost slipped off his tongue, but he bit it as he realized his mistake. He was supposed to know that girl, and he didn’t, and he had just about given himself away neck and crop.

‘Wait a second,’ Chim said, slowly, straightening. ‘Are you talking about...’

And she trailed off, too, leaving Hansol without a clue he was hoping so badly for.

He felt all stares concentrate on him, like sun rays through the looking glass. It was a question of seconds until he would burn. _‘_ _I was talking about Ida,’_ he tried in his head. Was it worth a shot? If Ida was the silent girl in the corner, he would blow his cover completely – or what was left of it, anyway.

_Now they are gonna ask questions. What am I to say? ‘Your universe is not real, ladies, bye!’_

He bit onto his lower lip and remained silent.

‘What’d they even feed those whores these days?’ Lora hemmed, scratching her knee.

‘Fucked if I could even begin to know,’ Machie drawled. ‘You know I quit with _that_ kind of stuff. Just not worth it. Guess that’s why he looked so scared, after all. What’s S-man give you, kid?’

‘What are you talking about?’

That was the tall girl’s voice. Hansol turned his helpless stare to her. She entered the room, holding a big bottle of tequila in her hand, as well as a couple tiny glasses she was holding all together, her fingers stuck inside them. Under her arm she was also holding a big, half-empty bottle of cola.

‘Poor kid doesn’t even remember your name,’ Chim dropped, sending Hansol another glance – a pitiful one this time.

‘What do you mean?..’

‘We mean he clearly don’t know who you are,’ Lora said. ‘N’ I was wondering what’d they give those lads so they forget people and names. I mean, I guess I get why they would want to forget, or why someone else’d want them to, but...’

‘Wait.’ The tall girl crouched down, putting the bottle and glasses carefully on the floor. ‘Wait, wait, wait a minute. You’re saying he doesn’t know who I am?’

‘I mean, that was clear to me since the beginning,’ Lora pointed out knowingly.

The tall girl looked at Hansol, her eyebrows knitted – not in an angry manner, but rather in a look of concern.

‘Butterfly… you don’t remember me?’

The explanation the girls had come up with was a brilliant save, and Hansol realized he needed to play along. He squinted at the girl and ventured:

‘Are you… Ida?..’

The girl turned her head to Lora and Chim.

‘See? He knows who I am!’

‘He hesitates,’ Machie sighed. ‘I get it now. He wa’nt shaking like that ‘cause he was scared. He’s coming down. He been on something real bad, and if I tell you, I know.’

The crease between the tall girl’s – _Ida’s –_ eyebrows grew a bit deeper.

‘Shit, that’s bad. Can we help him? Machie?’

Machie gave a little helpless shrug.

‘Why you think I quit with that stuff? Not really anything we can help him with. Not even another dose. What’s the stuff called, kid? Do you know?’

Ida’s expression dropped from concerned to downright exasperated.

‘That’s fucking bullshit!’ she exclaimed. ‘Butterfly, why did you need something heavy? I told you not to get into that, _ever_. I trust Machie on that, and, believe me, she knows!’

‘It’s not like he really had a choice.’

This new voice had such a world-weary, drawled quality to it, it seemed like its owner was bearing a huge stone on her chest. The heavy accent had a rolling ‘r’, and gave the vowels a strange quality. Hansol looked at the girl in the corner – and met her piercing stare.

‘Of course he would eventually get onto something heavy, Ida, you think for the boys there it’s all maryjane? If it was, they wouldn’t ever stay, and some wouldn’t even start in the first place.’

Chim rolled her eyes.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! We get it that you’re a _feminist,_ Rada, and blah-blah, prostitution is bad, - we _get_ it! We heard it a thousand times, but guess what? _I_ was there, I _am_ there, and guess what? I’m – fine!’

‘You’re forgetting who I am,’ Rada replied, perfectly calmly. Her stare moved to Chim in no hurry. ‘I’m not talking as a _feminist_ , I’m talking as a _prostitute._ In the past, that is, so there’s nothing holding me back now, I have no one to cover for. What are you on, Chim? Do you remember what _I_ was on? Do I need to remind you where we are?’

‘Girls.’ That was Ida’s voice. ‘Girls, calm down. Chim, please.’

Chim huffed through her nose.

‘I’m sorry,’ Rada said, slowly. ‘But really, look at the kid. It’s clear S-man has been feeding him something heavy. As Lora said, it’s clear why they would want to forget. Butterfly has a lot of clients. But what’s more important is that he stays. He brings S-man money, _a lot_ of money. So of course he would want to tie him up as well as he can.’

Hansol shuddered at the name ‘Butterfly’.

‘Look,’ he decided to make his presence known, ‘I’m not here for the drugs, and I’m not here for your insightful analysis. Thanks for that, but that's not what I need at all. I’m looking for Shin Yooncheol, and if you could help me anyhow, I would appreciate that.’

All the stares were suddenly on him. Ida, who was just pouring cola into the glass she had found on the floor, stopped, put the bottle down and inclined her head to the side. Hansol looked at their faces in turn, and they all looked like he had just said a name that couldn't be uttered.

 _What's the matter?_ \- he wanted to ask, but didn't.

‘And may I ask why the fuck ye need him?’ Machie more stated than asked, leaning back onto her arm.

Hansol opened his mouth to answer — and had to close it again. His thoughts rushed to Yooncheol and it was suddenly difficult to talk. He sighed, looking down.

‘I…’ he tried, and trailed off, wincing. ‘He's…’

But his breath hitched, and he bit onto the knuckle of his middle finger nervously. He didn’t know what to say and how to explain their connection – in this world they clearly had none.

‘Kid, are you… looking Yooncheol for a deal?’ Machie asked carefully. ‘Because if you are, you must’ve spent quite a while in a bunker.’

‘No-no, I’m not,’ Hansol said quickly. ‘I just… I need to see him.’

‘I don’t think there’s much left to see, if anything,’ Rada called, and her weary voice sounded suddenly tense.

‘And if there is anything left, you wouldn’t want to see that,’ Ida shook her head quickly, as if brushing it off. ‘Here.’

She passed him the glass of cola. It was clearly intended to put the uncomfortable conversation on hold, if not end it altogether. Hansol took the glass from her hand and sipped, taking a lot into his mouth at once and swallowing quickly, trying to wash down the lump in his throat. The cola was significantly less fizzy than it was supposed to be, but it was fine with Hansol now.

'You girls want drinks?' Ida asked nonchalantly, pulling a salt-cellar out of her pocket.

'I do,' Lora called readily.

Hansol swallowed another mouthful and finally took a deep breath.

'What happened to Yooncheol?' he asked into the air — and immediately all stares jibbed into him again, silently judging him for bringing up the forbidden name.

'We don't talk about him,' Chim said quickly, taking the glass from Ida's hands.

'He lived here before Machie, and, just in case he kicked the bucket, is better not to trouble 'is spirit,' Lora informed, reaching behind herself and pulling out a bag of crisps. She opened it carefully and reached her hand in.

'He's not dead,' Hansol said quietly, staring at the floor.

'And how'd _you_ know?!' Machie huffed, almost disgusted.

'I just do,' Hansol said, with pressure. 'He isn't dead, and you need to tell me where to find him, or at least who else I can ask.'

'Hansol.'

He looked up. Ida left the bottle to Lora and Chim, rising, came up and crouched down beside Hansol.

'Look,' she said softly. 'I don't know where you got the idea that the guy isn't dead in the first place. But even if he isn't, no one really knows where he is now, and what became of him. He might really be in a state where you wouldn’t want to see him, or where he’d be of no use to you.’

‘Well, maybe it’s that no one knows, and maybe it’s just that there wasn’t ever a chance for the knowing to tell,’ Rada remarked, shifting in her seat.

Ida shot her a look – indignant more than anything.

‘Didn’t understand shit you were saying,’ Lora hemmed.

‘Just saying that I know what became of him,’ Rada said, and a smile sounded in her voice, making it weirdly soft and welcoming all of a sudden. ‘I knew old Yoonch back in the day.’

‘ _Back in the day,’_ Chim scoffed. ‘It was, like, a year ago?’

‘A little more,’ Rada shrugged softly. With her newfound smile, she had something sweet and cat-like about her. ‘We were good friends when I was still a worker, and he used to deal to me and the girls.’

‘What happened to him?’ Hansol asked again, looking intently at her. It was like they had switched their demeanor, and he felt slightly weird because of it.

Rada’s eyes glazed over with a weird look of sweet sadness. She looked down, through Hansol.

‘He started shooting up,’ she said simply. ‘And, well, it’s not like it would have been a big deal, but Yoonch was the type to experiment. He always wanted more and more, and he was always a loner, too. There was no one to stop him – and I don’t think he would listen if there _was_ someone. He decided he needed to modify the effect, and he started mixing his own stuff fairly soon. I don’t know what he was putting in there, or where he was finding all that. All I remember is that he was shorter and shorter on money, and that couldn’t but show. He was starting to gradually look worse, until he completely disappeared for a while.’

She trailed off and paused, and stayed silent, looking through Hansol.

‘You never told me that,’ Machie remarked in the established silence.

Rada gave a little shrug. _So it was, -_ said her face.

‘And since he disappeared you don’t know where he is?’ Hansol dared ask. More than anything, he was impatient. Rada’s story was supposed to leave everyone dumbfounded, but here, he knew more that she did.

Rada raised her head and looked Hansol in the face this time.

‘When he disappeared, after a while I went looking for him. It’s not like I was worried – more like, curious. Or maybe I just had to do _something_ to keep sane. And you know… I found him.’

Lora drew a sharp intake of breath – a little louder than she probably intended. Rada glanced at her quickly before looking back at Hansol – she squinted slightly, focusing on him, as if she was trying to drill holes in his face.

‘Where?’ Hansol asked. He had straightened, tensed, listening intently to every word not to miss anything important.

‘We have a backstreet around here where there is a huge waste dump,’ Rada said, and her voice suddenly rang metal. ‘Except there isn’t inanimate waste kept there. Loads of people, tens at a time, live there, although it’s pretty hard to call that _life._ They continue existing there, an ugly mess of what once was persons. The remnants. The leftovers. I found him there.’

She squeezed her mouth shut, a crease appearing at the corner of her lips. She was staring down and through Hansol again, her nostrils flaring.

‘And what’d you do?’ Machie encouraged, seeming the least affected by Rada’s story at all.

Rada lifted her eyes, and her stare jibbed into Machie. The other bore it stoically. Rada took a deep breath. Her jaw slowly unclenched. She licked her lips slightly.

‘What did I have to do?’ she asked, giving a little shrug, before looking away. ‘I went away and since then I was clean. More or less, anyway. Good riddance, you know. He took a dark part of my life to that landfill with him.’

Hansol let out a shaky breath.

‘Where _is_ that landfill of a place?’

Rada hemmed.

‘Quite far from here. Thankfully.’

‘You need to tell me how to get there.’

He caught Ida’s begging stare, but ignored it.

‘Rada, you’re _not_ gonna tell him, are you?’ she asked, and the tone of her voice clearly indicated the answer she wanted from her.

Rada shrugged, looking up.

‘Well, he’s not asking any one of us to go with him. And if he really wants to go there and find Yoonch, then good luck to him. I mean, somehow he thinks he’s still alive, so maybe he _does_ know something we don’t.’

‘Trust me, I do,’ Hansol said hotly, rising. ‘And I need you to show me the way as soon as possible.’

‘Can you walk already?’ Chim dropped. She didn’t look too enthusiastic about Hansol leaving, despite stealing glances at her pillows he so readily abandoned.

‘I’m fine,’ Hansol nodded. ‘Rada?..’

Rada sighed. She pushed herself away from the floor with her hands, and struggled to rise. Chim offered her an arm to lean on.

Ida jumped to her feet.

‘Are y’all really gonna let him go like this?!’ she exclaimed. ‘He’s _high_ , for fuck’s sake, that’s why he thinks that guy is alive! Machie!’

Machie met her desperate stare and inclined her head to the side.

‘We can’t restrain him, y’know,’ she said. ‘If he wants to leave, he’ll leave anyway.’

Ida slapped her hips. Hansol finally looked at her – her eyes were filled with tears. He didn’t want to leave her like this, but even more than that, he didn’t want to waste any more time.

‘Ida.’

She looked at him and furrowed her brows.

‘Don’t say anything,’ Rada said quietly as she walked up to him – he noticed her limp slightly, but noticeably. ‘We’ll calm her down, I promise. You need to go to that offal court, or what?’

Hansol nodded quickly. Rada put her arm around him, guiding him towards the door.

‘Butterfly!’ Ida called behind his back.

Rada unlocked the door and opened it.

‘I’ll say goodbye to the girls for you,’ she said. ‘Look, you’ll go down this street, until you see a bar called the Shooter. It has a big sign board, you’ll notice it...’

As she was speaking, she was softly pushing Hansol towards the exit, and he couldn’t help but obey.

‘From there, you turn right, and go a-all the way down that street, until you hit a dead end… ugh, I wish I had something to draw you a map on,’ she glanced over her shoulder back at the girls. They were still arguing – the loudest voice was Ida’s, the others seemed to try and calm her down. Rada shook her head to herself, as if dismissing the thought in her mind. ‘Okay, whatever, So, as I said, you go all the way down that street before you hit a dead end, and from there you turn around, at take the first turn to your now-left.’

She pushed him softly one last time – and the house ran out under his feet. Hansol stepped out into the night, cool breeze brushing his skin.

‘From there, you go… uhm…’ she paused, looking away. ‘I think until the second right turn. Yes, I think so. You’ll recognize the turn because it’s gonna be narrow and stinky. And from there, you’ll see your way plain.’

Hansol chewed on his lower lip.

‘Could you please repeat?’

Rada sighed.

‘Okay, yeah. Again, you go down this street, until the Shooter...’

From inside the house, leaving behind the dissolved argument, Chim was coming to help Rada back. A bat flew over their heads in a crooked path. Far above twinkled invisible stars.

* * *

The Shooter’s signboard was indeed noticeable – Hansol could see it already in the distance. He was in a hurry. He was running out of breath too quickly, and had to slow down time and time again, but every time he did he felt guilty.

_I must hurry. I already lost too much time._

He cursed himself for every odd minute spent with the girls in Machie’s caravan. _I didn’t need all those life lessons, -_ he told himself, although he couldn’t even tell what kind of lessons there were. He just had a feeling there _had_ to be some. _After all, I know the design of this game. The design that came crushing down right on my head._

Simple as it was, Hansol hated fights. In the closed-up space where the group existed in between exhausting work, physical and mental, and even more exhausting, restricted and performative social life, those were common. Hansol himself tried his best to avoid arguing, even if that meant basically stopping communicating with his groupmates – and he couldn’t stand seeing his best friends fight, simply because he could never pick a side. He saw them mostly as equally right and equally wrong, and even where someone was clearly at fault he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. If he was asked, he tried to soften the blow as much as he could, and ended up inventing such intricate metaphors no one really understood them. So when the idea for the game crossed his mind, he surprised even himself. Except then, it wasn’t an idea for the game. It was just one of the countless scenarios running through Hansol’s head.

Mostly the scenarios he made up were bad. They were always revolving around him, not making him the hero, but making him the loser, the outsider, the guilty. However much he tried to push those thoughts out of his head, they came and came again, unsolicited, sometimes quick, and sometimes unbearably big and clear. It was difficult to think his own thoughts with that much going on, but Hansol appreciated the struggle. And that evening, as he was lying in his bed in the dark, listening to Hojoon’s muffled sobs as everyone else was sleeping soundly – or maybe they were all pretending, - that evening a thought crossed his mind that only a miracle could save this group from falling apart under the load of all the conflicts. Like, for example, if they found themselves in a weird universe of fantasy and dangerous adventures, with beautiful eerie light, dim and greenish, where they all would have to work as a team to find each other – and then to save themselves from that scary realm. That, he thought, would bring them all together neatly and beautifully, and make them friends again, without all those grudges and jealousy and late night tears.

He wanted to tell Yooncheol about it. If he was there, Hansol would probably have climbed out of his bed and shuffled off to his studio. He knew that Yooncheol would listen. He was normally awake long after Hansol went to bed, always trying to do something useful, but if Hansol needed him, he was ready to drop what he was doing – mixing, composing or arranging, or writing poetry, or writing diaries, or whatever else he did there. He struggled with insomnia, and Hansol always felt a little guilty for taking advantage of it.

But Yooncheol wasn’t home. Those days, he would hang out with Sangdo a lot. They grew much closer during the time they were working together, recording their music, and they began to spend time in two a lot. It was mostly Sangdo that organized it, and Hansol was never invited – he made sure of that. Hansol knew exactly why that was done, and the very thought of it stung.

He was toxic to Yooncheol. He realized it before Sangdo started taking Yooncheol away – he could say that he knew it all along, and in the moments of enlightenment he hated himself for knowing that and not doing anything. Yooncheol was already short on resource, trying to do at least _something_ he could be proud of, something of his own, and that struggle was feeding off his life energy. He didn’t need someone draining him even more, and Hansol was aware of it when he first planted a little chaste kiss on Yooncheol’s forehead as thanks for helping him out of another dark pit. The little look of disbelief on Yooncheol’s face at that moment made his heart nag – he knew exactly how much Yooncheol didn’t appreciate himself. But the way he smiled softly when Hansol intertwined their fingers gave him a sense of reassurance. He promised himself not to be a burden. Needless to say, he couldn’t keep that promise.

Used to being the average one, the mediocre, the outsider, Yooncheol tried to cope with his impostor syndrome by working himself clear off his feet. Quite often, he didn’t even bother to eat because it took so much of his precious time. So did sleep, and so did hanging out with his friends – although Yooncheol didn’t hang out much anyway. He wasn’t a _people person_ , and sometimes Hansol wondered if that was because he was so short on energy. Hansol was different. He _was_ a people person – for the sole reason that, while communication drained Yooncheol of life, to Hansol it was time to recharge.

He was needy. He needed physical affection, he needed talking, he needed someone to listen to him, and from time to time he needed someone to do certain things _for_ him. He needed attention, and he needed reassurance that he wasn’t _bad –_ although in the long run he didn’t believe it, it was soothing to hear that every once in a while. Yooncheol was more than eager to grant all of that, even if that meant dropping his own activities. He told Hansol he felt good when he could help him, and Hansol had trouble figuring out how healthy that feeling was.

But he never doubted he was toxic to Yooncheol. For a person so low on resource, Hansol had to feel like just another draining activity, – and he knew, better than many, that being emotionally drained was worse than being physically exhausted. But he just couldn’t bring himself to back away from Yooncheol. They got along way too well, and he cherished him way too much. Yooncheol was the only one who didn’t seem to see love as a conquest – and the only one who was, or seemed to be, fine with Hansol’s definition of love. Or maybe he was just ready to sacrifice pretty much anything to be loved. Hansol thought of it just a little too late.

When Yooncheol started spending more time with Sangdo, Hansol couldn’t help but notice how much they had in common. They were both really gentle and caring, and both a little awkward, although Yooncheol quite a lot more than Sangdo. They were both willing to give a lot, and they desired love – and that’s where Hansol couldn’t help but see them as fundamentally different people.

Sangdo was a true giver. He was generous without measure, outgoing, his heart on his sleeve – he was a people-pleaser, in simultaneously the best and the worst meaning of the word. He only wanted comfort and happiness of others, and he would do anything to provide that. He was like a loving parent to everyone, and sometimes Hansol caught himself wondering how Hojoon felt being in a relationship with such a person – if he was getting part of a responsibility as the other parent (which he did, after all, even without Sangdo), or if he was in line with his _children_ , only much closer to his heart.

Yooncheol was different. Much more reserved by nature, he was careful with giving, and much quieter in his affections. Sangdo would raise others to join his noble quest to aid the one in need. Yooncheol ventured alone, quietly, most often unnoticed, and did only what was in his power and didn’t cost him too much trouble. He was _healthier_ in his desire to help, but his ever-fatigued face and the way he treasured his alone time painted quite a misleading picture in the minds of those who didn’t deliberately look deeper. Even some of his friends – the other members of the group – thought of him as a reserved workaholic incapable of big feelings. Lord knows how wrong they were. The feelings Yooncheol contained eventually got so big that he actually dropped all his guard, and stopped being careful at all.

That’s when Sangdo stepped in.

Hansol had to admit that by the time Sangdo finally decided to get more active it was fairly obvious how deeply intoxicated Yooncheol was with his love. The bags under his eyes got bigger, and the whites of his eyes redder. He was unusually thin, even for his asthenic build, and he was quieter than ever. Sangdo was gentle at first as he tried to find out what was the matter, but Yooncheol wasn’t the one to share secrets. From the beginning, he decided that his love for Hansol had to be just between them two, and he stuck to his word, although, Hansol knew, a few others had noticed, and didn’t enjoy it.

Yooncheol was secretive. And Sangdo decided to take action. And he knew exactly how to start: with a project, with work, with suggesting to create something Yooncheol would be proud of. Sangdo knew he couldn’t say no. And he didn’t. After that, it was only a matter of time until Sangdo would start working his way towards guiding Yooncheol back to the healthy place he had established, until this love came into his life. Hansol saw it, and he didn’t try to intervene. After all, he knew from the start that he was bad for Yooncheol. He was ready to take punishment.

But what pained him the most was that Yooncheol was clearly not inclined to punish him, anyhow. He was still willing to listen, to be near, to offer the entirety of himself, if Hansol just wanted to accept it. And he _did_ want, he wanted so badly – but he forbade himself. To his relief and grief, Yooncheol wasn’t anything like Sangwon, he wasn’t pushy. He accepted ‘no’ for an answer. Hansol told him he had a lot of personal artistic work going on, and that he was going through a white stripe and had to make the best of it. That was a good excuse, believable. And even still, Yooncheol would have accepted whatever he said. Hansol was always grateful for that.

In the dark of the room, to the quiet, stifled accompaniment of Hojoon’s ragged breathing, Hansol invented a concept of something that would bring them all together and let them out better, healthier people. They needed their own coming-of-age story, and at that moment Hansol thought that it could only be a fantasy novel.

* * *

The dead end looked more _dead_ than he had expected. The light from a few windows was dim and eerie. Even the air seemed wet. Barely any sound reached that forsaken corner – the dead end felt like it was deep underwater. Hansol stopped in front of the old brick wall and looked up, to where the velvet blue of the night skies unravelled above the flat roofs.

The stucco the wall used to boast at some point before was almost all peeled off, dirty pieces of it were cracking under Hansol’s sneakers. Mould was creeping over the leftovers, claiming the rectangular space for itself with it cold smell. Hansol closed his eyes and replayed Rada’s directions in his head again. He hoped he remembered right.

_From there you turn around, at take the first turn to your now-left. From there, you go until the second right turn. You’ll recognize the turn because it’s gonna be narrow and stinky. And from there, you’ll see your way…_

He turned around slowly, carefully, listening to the crackling of the plaster dust under his feet.

 _You turn around, -_ Rada’s voice reminded in his head. Hansol opened his eyes, and saw nothing.

He inhaled, and suddenly he couldn’t feel the wet stench of the dead end any more. He shifted on his feet – and didn’t hear anything. He looked up, and down, and there was nothing but endless blackness, like even he himself ceased to exist.

Hansol felt a wave of panic rise from his chest to his throat. He glanced around, feeling his heartbeat grow loud, erratic, filling the endless black with sound. It was solid and all-consuming, like the dark of the limbo, but now Hansol couldn’t even see himself, he could only hear his own heartbeat growing mercilessly loud in his ears.

He shut his eyes and cried out, and stumbled forward – and hit the ground, painfully, scratching his knees and hands. The stench of dirty wet ground filled his nostrils, and he opened his eyes wide to meet the ground face to face, dimly lit, rough, and real.

He hissed, biting on his lips, and turned to sit, examining his knees. Sure enough, they were grazed and bloody, unprotected by ripped jeans. Hansol touched the dark droplets with his fingertip, and hissed again.

‘Fuck.’

He looked at his palms – grazed as well. He could feel there was dust and stucco stuck under his skin now, but the light was insufficient to find out. He bit onto his lip and listened to his body. It was starving, it was in pain, it was exhausted.

Hansol leaned onto the backs of his hands to push himself off the ground. Straightening his legs burned, and he had to bend them again, putting his hands on his thighs, carefully not to hurt himself more. At least now he could see and feel himself. That was a little relieving.

He straightened slowly, carefully, hissing at the pain in his knees, and looked around. He was standing with his back to the wall now. This way, the street looked unfamiliar, as if he saw it for the very first time. Or maybe – maybe he did. Maybe it changed, and he couldn’t tell, because he was never really careful to the details of his landscape.

He could see a left turn a little further down – a rectangular arch full of gaping blackness. He shuddered, but there was no way he could back out now. _There’s so little left. I’m so close. I’ll find Yooncheol and fetch him, and it will all just be easier from there. When Yooncheol is there, it always gets better._ He took a deep breath and braced himself to continue.

As he slowly approached the passage, he distinguished light reaching from the other side. He came closer and peeked in. The arch was opening into a quite long and narrow tunnel, passing through the building and into a wide street lit with two lines of streetlights. They looked brand new, and their light was too bright and sickly-white. Hansol breathed out a little sigh of relief as he stepped into the passage.

Now, as he was walking, each step was easier than the previous – that, despite the ever-present pain. He could almost see his destination ahead, he told himself – although only the white streetlights were blinding him from the other side. It seemed weirdly like a passage to heaven, and Hansol tried to convince himself that was a good sign.

As he stepped out of the passage, he couldn’t smell mould any more, but he had to squint not to hurt his eyes. He found himself at the very edge of a road, running straight into the arch to stop. No cars were parked on the sides of it. It was brightly lit and perfectly empty, like a stage before a long-awaited performance, or like a landing stripe. Hansol looked to the sides – and realized just how terribly mistaken he was about safety of the light.

The road was bathing in white light, and Hansol could see the crisp lines of beams from the lampposts, forming a jagged outline of the lit area. The sidewalks on both sides were darkened, invisible from where he was standing. Hansol glanced around his shoulder. There was no way back, he realized. If he went back, he would certainly be lost. Quietly, he backed off the brightly lit road to the right – staying on it seemed a lot like becoming a bait, - and stepped off the jagged edge, diving into the dark. He lingered on the brim of the black, his fingertips brushing the lamppost, letting his eyes get accustomed to another change.

A _thud_ broke the silent stillness. Hansol jumped in surprise, squinting, struggling to find the source of the sound. It couldn't be just games of his imagination, he thought, the sound was too clear and unexpected. Then came another _thud_ , and then a muffled groan. Hansol realized the sounds were coming from far away, - and they certainly felt painful. He had two options now: he could withdraw, keep himself safe - or he could investigate, because there could be his friends there. There was, however, a fairly big chance that the people hiding in the dark in the empty street weren't at all well-meaning. Hansol bit onto his lip, considering his options. He glanced back, but the white light had all but consumed the rectangular passage cutting through the house. Hansol breathed in and out. Then, carefully, he sneaked up to the next lamppost, straining his eyes to catch any glimpse of motion.

And another _thud_ , and then another, but this time with a disgusting wet _slurp_. Hansol had turned entirely into ears, barely breathing.

‘You think you can just come at me like that, you filthy piece of shit?’ a voice asked, echoing in all directions. And it was definitely a familiar voice, although it was muffled and reverbed.

‘And ya calling _me_ a piece of shit!’ another voice replied, louder, and in its angered strain, Hansol unmistakeably recognized Hojoon.

There came another sound – a sound of a blow.

‘You open your mouth without command again, and the police won’t identify you tomorrow,’ somebody else snarled through gritted teeth. ‘I can assure that.’

Hansol sneaked on to the next lamppost. He could already see the origin of the sound – a clot of motion further down the street, but he couldn’t see what they were doing, or count them. From the sounds, however, it was pretty obvious someone was getting beaten, and Hansol liked none of it. Still, slowly and quietly, he was approaching the site, trying not to think about what he would do if it turned out he had just dreamed Hojoon’s voice up.

‘So what? I have _nothing_ to lose!’ Hojoon’s voice rang through the street, desperate and pained. ‘Whatcha gon’ do?! Beat me to death?! Torture me?! Whatever can you do that life itself ain’t yet done to me?!’

Another blow cut the word off a little sooner than it was meant to end. Hansol could already distinguish separate figures in the clot of motion – four or five men, bigger and smaller, were surrounding someone lying on the ground in a loose half-circle. The victim wasn’t even trying to fight back. He was only struggling to sit upright again, pushing himself off the ground on trembly arms.

‘You don’t wanna know,’ one of the men dropped, and with that, he delivered a half-hearted kick on the victim’s side. Someone else spat to the side.

Hansol was getting dangerously close. His motions were slower now, and he bent his knees to become smaller, suppressing a hiss of pain. Now he could see the face of the victim, outlined by a reflection of white light. It was undoubtedly Hojoon, but that didn’t relieve Hansol at all. He needed to fetch him, but fetching him meant putting them both into a greater danger.

'Now, you're gonna do as I say,' a voice stated — the same voice that was so vaguely familiar, but Hansol couldn't see the face of the owner. 'You're gonna get down on your knees and apologize. You hear me? No one calls me names and insults my mother, and especially no one deprives me of my fun. You understand?'

A hand reached to grab Hojoon by the chin — the man's profile was obscured by the deep shadow of another.

Hojoon didn't try to turn away. He lashed forward, so that his face was even closer to that of the other.

'Your _fun_ , huh,' he spat out through gritted teeth. 'Now lemme tell ya what, _buddy_. You gon' bump me off now, but you ain't admitting your cowardly reasoning even to yaself! You hate me 'cuz I'm right! I'm right every word about you and your minions — y'all even _look_ like vomit of the earth, you fucking scum!'

One of the men made a sharp motion, but the one holding Hojoon raised a hand, stopping him mid-motion. But he had moved the shadow just enough for Hansol to see. The man Hojoon was talking to was Sehyuk — and the pieces fit right together in Hansol's head. He straightened, clenching his fists, looking for the right moment to come forth.

'Don't you all move,' Sehyuk ordered. 'You stay put until I say you move. _I_ decide who gets to clean my area of this piece of scum.'

Something like a smile distorted Hojoon's darkened face.

'O-oh, you wanna hear me out, huh! You just _know_ that what I have to say is true. So you'll hear all a' that!’ He grasped Sehyuk’s wrist. ‘You know what I have? I’ve nothing, I'm just trynna survive. Just like that poor little lad Sanggyunie! And I know how that feels. Not you, or any one of ya polished sons a' whores. You’re parasites, ya fucking shame. _Your fun,_ he is, huh! You just feed off of him, ‘cuz he got nowhere else to go and no one else to accept ‘im as he is! And I'm gonna step forth for 'im as long as I live, and even when I will kick the bucket, I'll find a chance ta haunt ye, heard me, Park motherfuckin' Sehyuk?! I’ll haunt ye, and I’ll stuff ye back into that stinky hole ye came out of!’

And with that, he spat right into Sehyuk’s face. The drop of saliva sparked, reflecting the white light, and landed right onto his cheek.

Hansol imagined that he could _hear_ Sehyuk’s face twitch, ever so slightly. He shoved Hojoon off, reaching his hand up to wipe his face.

‘Finish him,’ he dropped to one of the others. ‘I’m not even gonna get my hands dirty on this fuck.’

Someone stepped forward, and so did Hansol.

‘No!’

That’s when he heard footsteps behind his back, quick and approaching, and Sehyuk turned his head, and asked, face all confusion:

‘Batman?..’

* * *

 

Hansol looked over his shoulder – and there he was, face obscured by the mask, fists clenched tight.

‘Fuck right off,’ Jiho commanded, in the same voice that made his words heavy cannon balls. ‘You,’ his finger pointed at Sehyuk, ‘stay put, or I swear I’ll blow your head off. All others, get lost. This second!’

Sehyuk’s minions scrambled back, until they were running headlong away, to get lost in the dark. Hansol followed them with his stare, biting onto his lips just to give himself a little feeling of reality. Again this universe started moving quicker than he could think, and he felt like he was losing control.

Jiho crouched over Hojoon and turned to look at Hansol, pulling off his mask. His single seeing eye sparkled, reflecting the light.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t have let me go with you, but I just couldn’t let you go alone, unprotected. What have you been doing so long in Machie’s caravan?’

Hansol walked slowly, hesitantly closer. He couldn't yet answer - the words didn't come.

‘Come on, fetch them,’ Jiho encouraged. ‘I’ll take care of the rest.’

‘Who is that?’ Hojoon coarsed out, trembling finger pointing at Hansol.

Jiho supported him as he struggled to sit up. Only now could Hansol see what of a mess his face was, bloodied and bulging in the most unexpected places. He crouched down beside them.

‘Hojoonie,’ he called, his voice trembling and uncertain. ‘That’s me, you recognize me?’

Hojoon squinted at him. For a moment, his face had a look of pure confusion, and Hansol felt a little shiver of nervousness touch his shoulders - like something in the game had stopped working, not letting his friend recognize him. And then suddenly Hojoon let out a relieved breath and fell back onto Jiho’s arm. Hansol lashed forward – God forbid he would faint! But Hojoon was conscious. He was breathing heavily and smiling widely, although the smile he could manage was crooked and lopsided.

‘Oh shit, I’m glad that’s you,’ he croaked. ‘Congratulations, Mr. hero! You've just fetched the most useless and unnecessary part of this universe, but nevertheless you did it!’

‘What the fuck is going on here?! Batman!’

Hansol looked up at Sehyuk and met his bewildered stare.

‘It’s me,’ he repeated. ‘I’m here.’

Everything around him was revolving - was _having had revolved -_ somehow too fast, and Hansol suddenly felt like a spectator of an interactive story, with just so many choices he could make to influence the narrative. He looked at Sehyuk helplessly.

Sehyuk’s expression dropped. He shuddered with his entire body – and then he rushed to Hojoon and fell to his knees. His black jeans scratched on the asphalt, and Hansol flinched involuntarily.

Sehyuk reached his both arms out, but hesitated, his face a look of desperation.

‘Hojoon, I’m… I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!’

Hojoon glanced at Jiho and moved his shoulders as he sat up, heavily, but confidently. He didn't want his support any more - and Jiho seemingly slipped into the background as Hojoon spoke.

‘You still had to beat me for being the better leader, huh?’

He pulled on a one-sided smirk. Sehyuk shook his head. A crease appeared between his eyebrows.

‘No-no, don’t say that. I wouldn’t… I would never...’

‘Now that you see how it goes, you would never, I’m sure,’ Hojoon said, unhurriedly. He reached out and put his hand on Sehyuk’s shoulder, tapping it slightly. ‘See, there’s something good in this game. You get to see how things you wanna do can play out, and decide for yourself if you still wanna do them.’

‘Does it hurt badly?’ Sehyuk asked, uncertainly, raising his hand slightly towards Hojoon’s face.

Hojoon huffed.

‘Well, let’s say… hurts like hell,’ he said, and his voice was smiling. ‘No grudges, though.’

Sehyuk shook his head again, and then softly pulled Hojoon closer to himself. Hojoon didn’t resist. He threw his arms around Sehyuk awkwardly and stayed in his embrace – not stiffly, but sincerely.

‘Do you feel sorted out?’ he asked.

Sehyuk shrugged slightly.

‘I don’t know what _sorted out_ is supposed to feel like,’ he confessed, tapping Hojoon’s back. ‘But I hope you’re not angry at me.’

He released Hojoon as he leaned back to look at him more carefully again. Hojoon shook his head and gave a little laugh.

‘Na-ah. I hope you don’t see me as a rival, though. I’m not the guy to… you know… steal other people’s roles and places. I think everyone has to do what they do best.’

‘Is there anything _I_ do best?’ Sehyuk dropped, half-jokingly, standing up and brushing the dust off his knees.

Hojoon shook his head, leaning back again. He looked tired, more than anything – tired and hurt.

‘There’s something I _know_ you can do best, but I’ll need to save it for later,’ he said seriously.

Jiho turned to Hansol, dragging them both back to the forefront with that little interaction.

‘I see you’re pretty much alive, after all,’ he said, with a grin. ‘I’m glad I didn’t have to intervene earlier. See, you shouldn’t have sent me away. I’m stubborn, you know.’

Hansol shook his head.

‘I’m kind of glad,’ he confessed, ‘and I’m also kind of pissed.’

‘Well, at least I can promise to leave you alone now,’ Jiho shrugged. ‘Someone needs to help Hojoon walk, and also – I think, Sehyuk, you know where to find Sanggyunie?’

Sehyuk hemmed.

‘Yeah, I guess. Hojoon interrupted us, and he ran away, but I guess I know where he might be hiding.’

'So do I,' Hojoon pointed out, raising his hand.

‘And, Hansolie, you were headed to the local garbage heap to find Yooncheol,’ Jiho nodded to himself. ‘I figured you would, to be honest. I guess it was meant to be, after all, the script is all made to fit you.’

Hansol pulled a little face.

‘ _To fit..._ ’

Jiho raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

‘Sorry, bad wording. But you get what I’m saying. I guess we can’t stop you now, the place you’re going is not far away.’

‘You said you didn’t know where to find him.’

Jiho shrugged.

‘Well, I needed to know what to expect, so I had to pay a visit to Machie after you left. Had a little chat with Rada, and I must say you were lucky she was there.’

‘You know Rada?’

Jiho let out a short laugh.

‘I mean, everyone here knows Rada. Hard not to know that girl. You know the type – she’s a _feminist_ , loud and a little fucked up.’

Hansol pulled a face. He didn’t much like Jiho’s definition of a ‘feminist’, even if Rada _was_ a little fucked up – but then, who in this area wasn’t?

‘She didn’t seem loud when I saw her,’ he remarked.

‘Well, guess you just didn’t say anything _problematic,_ ’ Jiho smirked. ‘Anyway, you remember where you need to go?’

Hansol nodded, recalling.

‘From here to the second right, and then… then, she said, I will see.’

Jiho nodded.

‘You will indeed. Where are we gonna meet before going back to the Big S?’

‘I suggest we meet right here,’ Sehyuk made his presence known. He had helped Hojoon to his feet, and kept the other’s arm draped around his shoulders. ‘I mean, I don’t know how well Hansol knows the area.’

Jiho shrugged.

‘Fair enough. We could actually go to the wasteland to meet him right there.’

Hansol shook his head quickly.

‘No, no need to,’ he said confidently. ‘You go, and I’ll meet you around here.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Jiho dropped, coming over to Hojoon and Sehyuk. ‘Go now. We lost quite a bit of time.’

As Hansol was walking away, he looked over his shoulder and glimpsed Jiho and Sehyuk walking Hojoon carefully into the white light. They crossed the road and disappeared into the darkness on the other side.

* * *

Now that Hansol was certain that he was completely alone, he felt weirdly vulnerable. Before, he just didn’t think about it deliberately, but now the thought was fresh and raw in his mind, and he _felt_ it. He felt just how alone he was. But the stranger was, he thought, that although he was grateful to Jiho, he couldn’t help but be angry at him - still angry, after he helped him this much. After all, Hansol didn’t ask for help, and maybe he _wanted_ to be alone, maybe he _needed_ that challenge. And, for the first time, it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t have talked so freely about his idea, because maybe, just maybe, even in his fantasies, he didn’t have the right to force his help onto others.

The morning after he had invented the concept of a coming-of-age story for the group, he was itching to share it with somebody – but he felt he couldn’t share it with any one of his groupmates themselves. Maybe he had to stop right there, he thought. But he went on and he found someone.

He always spent a lot of time with the staff: with management, with the writers, the makeup artists, and all of those people who maintained their image. One of those people was his close friend named Alex, who spoke pretty bad Korean, but was a good listener and understood much better than he talked. That was a good set of characteristics, and Hansol decided to share the idea with him. After all, they were good friends, and Hansol shared a lot of his personal troubles with him.

The worst thing was, he realized now, that it was impossible to tell that entire story without revealing why the idea came to him in the first place. It was all so deeply intertwined: Hojoon’s loneliness, Sangdo’s guilt, Byungjoo’s progressing self-harm, Sangwon’s fits of anger and pushiness, Sanggyun’s detachment, more present with each coming day, Jiho’s disappointment, Sehyuk’s confusion, Yooncheol’s life running out – and his own ever-present notion that he was _bad_. And so Hansol opened his mouth once – and spilt, spilt, spilt.

He didn’t notice how his steps grew quicker, and how his cheeks were burning now. He was almost running – running away from himself, because he just couldn’t stand the shame.

_What was I thinking?! What the hell got in my head?!_

They spent a lot of time discussing the coming-of-age story Hansol had invented, and possible worlds and scenarios to bring the others back together and to face their fears and solve their problems. And then one day Alex told Hansol he was going back home to England – and then he was gone. They talked on social media, but eventually drifted apart. And then one day Hansol woke up in a white room with no windows or doors. How long ago was that? He hardly remembered. He didn’t even quite remembered Alex’s face.

The passage was becoming somehow gradually narrower – Hansol had to turn and walk sideways now, just not to accidentally brush against the disgusting walls on both sides of him. He was feeling stifled and hot. He had to stop and peel the Kevlar vest off himself – he didn’t feel like he needed it any more anyway. It dropped heavily to the ground, and Hansol didn't even turn to look where it landed.

And then suddenly the passage ended abruptly into an empty square, squeezed from all sides by tall buildings, but still rather big. And there, Hansol had to stop and catch his breath – because having to take big breaths in that smell was unbearable.

At the first glance, it seemed like he was surrounded by lumps – lumps of clothes and rot, of wet earth and rubbish. But then one of them moved, and started slowly unravelling – and it became clear that he was in fact surrounded by lumps of living flesh – calling those people would be a huge exaggeration.

Hansol’s swift, unexpected arrival stirred some interest in this wasteland – it indeed felt like one, even by the atmosphere. The stench was stifling. The place wasn't too dark: there were flashllights hung on the walls by the straps for holding, and there were even fires in barrels – just like they had in films. The light was warm, dim and nauseating. Hansol finally managed to straighten.

‘Hello,’ he called.

‘Well, hello there, Butterfly,’ someone’s voice replied. ‘What business does an accomplished young man have with garbage like us?’

Hansol turned to the direction of the voice. A big, dirty woman smiled at him mockingly – her teeth sparkled in the light. Hansol felt weird panic rise from the bottoms of his stomach. There he was now – in the place he was aimed for all the while. It wasn’t like he expected to see something very different. But all of a sudden he lost all of his courage, and just stood there, feeling small, naked, and helpless.

‘Are you lost?’ another voice asked. Hansol realized he needed to say something. He took a deep breath, and spoke, in the same little squeaky voice he had discovered in the vocal cords of Butterfly Hansol, the prostitute of this universe.

‘I’m… looking for Shin Yooncheol,’ he squeezed out.

And he immediately felt the urge to raise his shoulders, bend his knees, and shrink.

A thought crossed his mind that Yooncheol could be somewhere else. That it was possible that he had gone all that way in vain.

People around him started stirring, muttering between themselves.

‘Who’s he looking for?..’

‘What did he say?’

‘Shin Yooncheol?’

‘Is that…?’

‘It is!’

‘What do you need that guy for?’ somebody asked unsurely. But Hansol couldn’t really answer. He had lost all his words somewhere in the narrow passage – or maybe somewhere else, but they would not return to him.

Then, the stirring suddenly stopped all the way, except for the furthest corner. Hansol turned and looked there, and with him a few tens of pairs of eyes did the same. A figure rose in the corner, slowly, carefully. From where Hansol was standing, it looked like an old shaman, or an elder of a tribe, like they drew them in cartoons. The figure reached their hand out and touched the wall, and then, unhurriedly, moved towards Hansol. People shuffled out of their way quickly and quietly.

Hansol watched the slow walk of this slum guardian spirit in some mixed feeling of fear and awe. The figure seemed to float through the troubled sea of wretches - long rags obscured its feet, moving softly, wavily. When it came too close to somebody, they clapped their hands, and the figured moved a little further, to the other side. It looked like a ritual. Hansol and the others watched quietly. Then, suddenly, somehow really unexpectedly, the figure raised its head, and light finally shone on its face.

Holding his arms away from his body, swaying slightly as he walked, making long, slow blinks, Yooncheol came closer, - and stopped, hesitantly, shifting on his feet.

‘Who’s looking for me?’ he asked into the air. ‘Rada?.. Is that… you? Long time no see, huh?’

He gave a little confused smile, looking somewhere over Hansol’s head, and the charm of a guardian spirit was suddenly gone. All that stayed was Yooncheol – long, lanky, unsteady on his feet, and wrapped in rags so long they were sweeping the ground.

‘It’s… not Rada,’ Hansol called. ‘It’s me, Yooncheolie. Look at me.’

Yooncheol’s smile grew somehow even more lost.

‘I… can’t?’ he muttered, half-questioningly.

And then, Hansol understood. He understood the swaying walk, the clapping, the outstretched hands and the reverent gaze somewhere slightly above his head.

Yooncheol was blind.

He couldn’t look at Hansol.

* * *

He felt something break inside him – break with a ringing, like a string. He took a step at Yooncheol – and, following the sound, Yooncheol took a step at him, closing his useless eyes, his face a look of concentration.

‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘Are you close? Who are you?’

‘I’m right here,’ Hansol said quietly. ‘In front of you.’

Everything, every moment of this long and troubled day suddenly returned, like crashing waves onto his head. The pain between his buttocks. Byungjoo’s stare, like he was looking at somebody freshly-skinned. The sticky and helpless memory of being almost-raped by a gang of men in a dirty alley way. The grazed palms and knees. The glitches that made his head hurt. The fear. The humiliation. The name. _Butterfly. Butterfly. Butterfly!_

He felt weak in the knees. He didn’t even care much any more. He slowly lowered down to crouch, burying his head between his sharp knees. Here, closer to the ground, the stench was heavier, wetter, but it hardly mattered. Hansol felt hot tears gather in his eyes – and then flow, flow freely. He was guilty. He was to blame for all of this. He wanted to stay here as punishment for himself – and instead, now he was stuck with a realization that the one that would have to be left here would be Yooncheol. Somehow, again he took Hansol’s pain onto himself. Hansol let out a ragged breath. His fists clenched, nails digging into freshly scabbed scratches. The pain he had been ignoring was growing sharper – in his body, but more so in his heart. His face crinkled, his mouth distorted, - and Hansol cried, sobbing loudly, like a hurt, abandoned, violated child.

He physically felt the presence looming over him. Yooncheol lowered himself softly to kneel on the dirty ground, and then a big cool palm found its way to Hansol’s knee.

‘Wh-why are you crying?..’ Yooncheol asked, quietly, his voice nothing but concern. ‘Please, don’t cry. Who are you? Why were you looking for me?’

His hands were always this cool. Cool and soft, and careful, and tender. The fingertips ran barely over the grazes – and moved off, finding his clenched fist. Hansol let out another loud sob.

‘Please,’ Yooncheol all but whispered, leaning in closer. ‘I… I don’t know how to help you.’

‘You can’t,’ Hansol forced out, lifting his head sharply to look at Yooncheol. ‘You can’t, and you don’t even have to! Why, oh, why do you always need to _help me?!_ ’

His face was so close now – the familiar ever-tired face. He was skinnier, bonier, his cheeks hollow and grey, his features even more exaggerated now. The lost, unseeing look of his big tender eyes brushed Hansol’s face, never really stopping on anything. Hansol couldn’t imagine that this man had been a drug dealer. That was Shin Yooncheol, taken straight out of the real world, deprived of all memory and of eyesight, childlike in his weakness and vulnerability.

‘I… don’t understand,’ he muttered. ‘What do you mean?’

But Hansol couldn’t properly explain – he couldn’t even think straight. Something burst inside of him, and the words poured out in an endless flow.

‘I just wanted the best!’ Hansol cried desperately. ‘I just wanted everything to be okay again – and this is where we end up! This is what it all amounts to! I just keep fucking _everything_ up, and I’d really prefer fucking up just myself! But nah, it always has to be people I love! It always has to be you!’

Yooncheol shook his head.

‘I… don’t know who you’re confusing me with...’

‘ _Kim Hansol_!’ Hansol shouted. ‘Does Kim Hansol ring the bell?!’

Yooncheol raised his shoulders protectively. A crease appeared between his eyebrows. He looked even more helpless now – and Hansol knew that look, he remembered it, and it felt like someone sliced his heart in two with a jagged knife.

‘Of course not,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘Of course it doesn’t. Here, you don’t know me. You don’t even know yourself.’

Yooncheol sighed. His unseeing eyes looked down - a familiar expression.

‘Myself, I know,’ he said softly, sadly. ‘I wish I didn’t, though.’

Hansol slapped his thighs – the scratches on his palms responded with burning pain.

‘Everything, everything went wrong simply because I invented all of this!’ he sobbed. ‘I made everyone of us suffer!’

‘I’m pretty sure it wasn’t you who made _most_ of us suffer,’ Yooncheol pointed out softly. ‘Look, I don’t know who you are. I can't recall, I’m really sorry. But I…’ he lingered for a second. ‘But I think you have a lot troubling you. You haven’t found who you were looking for, but there’s me, and I can listen to you, if it makes you feel any better at all.’

That was what he always said – something along the lines of that anyway. He was always willing to listen, always willing to help somehow. And, well, he just couldn’t bear seeing Hansol cry. And Hansol couldn’t stop crying now.

‘I… I actually found you,’ he managed. ‘But even here, I fucked up! I… I don’t know how I even made it here! I… I’m a prostitute here, Yooncheolie! I’m a body for fucking, that’s all they see! There were those guys… they… they almost raped me, Yooncheolie!’

Yooncheol’s expression shifted again. His hand slowly moved up Hansol’s arm, squeezing ever so slightly.

‘Oh fucking hell...’

Hansol sobbed loudly.

‘They held me all together, and they… they wanted to fuck me, _they all_ wanted to fuck me, Yooncheolie! Every fucking man I passed today – all of them saw nothing but a lump of meat with a bunch of holes! I feel so dirty, I just wanna die, Yooncheolie!’

The other cool palm found its way to Hansol’s other arm.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ Yooncheol muttered. ‘Is it okay that I’m touching you? I just… don’t really own a sympathetic gaze any more...’

Hansol lashed forward – his knees landed painfully onto the ground, but his cheek pressed softly into Yooncheol’s shoulder. He clung to him, shaking with uncontrollable sobs – and in a second, he felt gentle arms wrap awkwardly around him. He was in Yooncheol’s embrace again, in the place where he normally felt protected and loved – but there was nothing _normal_ about it now, and Hansol’s heart just wrung even more painfully.

‘And then there’s the others… there’s Sangwonie, and I broke his heart, and I did it deliberately, and I… I’m a monster, I’m a real monster! The other guys are beating each other – just before I came here, I saw Sehyuk beat Hojoon bloody, and to think that it’s all because of me! All my fault!’

Yooncheol stroked his back softly.

‘They all had quite enough!’ Hansol cried, grasping him tighter. His fingertips dug into coarse fabric, and he felt Yooncheol’s sharp ribs underneath. ‘Every last one of us had enough of this shit! If only I knew how to stop that – oh, I would! I’d give my life, just to stop that! You guys will be better off without me anyway!’

Yooncheol’s hand travelled softly up his back, and around his neck.

‘There’s something so familiar about you...’ Yooncheol said, quietly. ‘I just wish I knew what it is...’

His moved away slightly, his fingertips tracing Hansol’s jaw.

‘From what I gather, you had quite enough, too,’ he went on, his voice comforting and soothing. ‘I mean, you went a long way. You seem really, really troubled, and really, really tired. I think you need a good cry – which you’re already having, and that’s good, – and you also need a good sleep.’

Hansol shook his head fiercely.

‘No, you don’t understand! I mustn’t sleep! If I fall asleep, Sanggyunie will be lost forever! And you – you, too! And I...’ his breath hitched, and his face stretched even harder in an ugly grimace. ‘I just can’t lose you… I just can’t… not like this… not until you get what you _really_ deserve...’ He reached his hand to his face, brushing Yooncheol’s fingers off, wiping his tears fiercely from his cheeks. ‘If anyone deserves to be lost in this hell of a game, that’s me. I’m useless anyway...’

‘That doesn’t sound quite right to me,’ Yooncheol said. His fingers found their way back to Hansol’s face, and moved up from his chin, tracing along the outline of his lips. ‘Aren’t there people who love you and will miss you? Anyone at all? Your parents, if no one else? Your pets, even?’

Hansol sobbed. Yooncheol’s fingers against his skin felt strangely comforting.

‘There… are,’ he managed, ‘but they will be better without me. In the long run, their lives will be much better without me!’

‘How so?’

Yooncheol stroked Hansol’s cheek, slowly, carefully, drawing its outline into whatever picture of his face that he was trying to draw.

‘I’m toxic,’ Hansol muttered quietly. ‘I drain people of energy. I’m needy. I’m demanding, and I don’t give back...’

‘But you said somebody’s gonna miss you when you’re gone,’ Yooncheol shrugged slightly. ‘If they’re gonna miss you, they’re gonna lack something good that’s associated with you.’

Hansol’s face crinkled again under Yooncheol’s careful fingertips.

‘You’ve done so much. Gone so far. Was it really all for nothing?’

Hansol sobbed – and broke into quiet, pained howling. Yooncheol ran his fingers quickly along his eyebrows, and then up to his forehead, stroking it. Hansol brushed his hand off again, and buried his face in his own two, bending down – just to have his head bump into Yooncheol’s chest. Yooncheol wrapped his both arms around him again and pressed him closer. Hansol huddled up on his chest, shaking and whining. Yooncheol was silent for a little while, and then he sighed quietly over Hansol’s ear.

‘You’re... saying really scary things,’ he said quietly. ‘And… now that I know you feel that...’ he trailed off and pressed Hansol even closer. Some new intonation sounded in his voice. ‘Hansolie… I… I recognize you – and shit, I don’t. I know who you are, I remember everything, but it feels like you’re someone new, someone I’ve never really met. Hansolie, if I talk now, will you listen to me?’

It was impossible – but there it was, in the familiar pet name. And in Yooncheol’s voice – new, serious and scared. Hansol shuddered with his entire body. He moved away sharply, peeking into Yooncheol’s face.

‘Really?! You are...’

‘Yes,’ Yooncheol said quietly.

Hansol grasped his face between his palms.

‘You really know who I am?!’

Yooncheol’s fingers wrapped around his wrists, softly, then ran to the backs of his hands to cup them.

‘I do. How could I not.’

He gave a little smile, closing his big, unseeing eyes. Hansol let out a shaky breath, and another sob – a sob of relief.

‘You… you’re fetched!’ he muttered, stroking Yooncheol’s cheeks, shaking his head, as if denying himself this joy.

‘I am,’ Yooncheol nodded. ‘I am. I’m here. With you.’

Hansol wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin, and he felt his tight embrace – and he realized how much he didn’t want to ever, _ever_ let go of him.

‘Listen,’ Yooncheol said, stroking his back soothingly. ‘Listen, Hansolie. You’re just _terrifying_ me, you know? I… I really don’t like knowing that you feel that way. Really. Because that all – that is simply not true.’

Hansol shook his head.

‘No, no, you don’t know what you’re talking about...’

‘Yes, I do,’ Yooncheol said, suddenly hotly. ‘Now listen here. What the fuck do you mean, that we’ll be better off without you? What do you mean _you_ made us suffer? You never explained that to me, and I need to know that – now that we’re talking.’

Hansol sobbed, digging his teeth painfully into his lower lip.

‘I… it was my idea, that game!’ he shouted. ‘I had no right, no right to even tell anyone, but I did, and I… and now...’

‘What idea?’ Yooncheol asked, and his voice – firm, but not accusatory, - shone like a beacon, leading Hansol through the dark labyrinth of his own mind.

‘The coming-of-age story for us!’ He sobbed. ‘The story that would _force_ us to all make it up and become friends again! Forced, you see? What right did I have to _force_ any kind of help onto anyone? How is this better than Sangwon’s pursuit? How is this better than the worst dystopia?! I should have known better, I should have known that compulsory happiness is just not a thing that exists...’

‘Wait.’

Hansol trailed off and waited for whatever it was that Yooncheol suddenly had to say.

‘Wait just a second,’ Yooncheol repeated. ‘Become friends again? When did we all stop? Did I miss anything?’

‘Did you ever even follow?..’ Hansol dropped, shuffling closer into him.

‘You, of all people, should know better,’ Yooncheol replied, and in his voice Hansol could hear how nettled he was. The guilt bit harder into his heart.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered.

‘I mean, of course I follow,’ Yooncheol said thoughtfully. ‘And, well, despite every one of us having some fuckups of his own – I mean, that’s what people do, right? - despite that, as far as I’m concerned, we never actually stopped being friends.’

‘What about Sanggyunie?’ Hansol sobbed, but it was already somehow half-hearted. ‘What about Hojoon and Sangdo?’

Yooncheol laughed quietly.

‘Sanggyun has a lot to say and no means to say it. And I think Hojoon has a lot to say as well, but he also has a lot of pride, and I can’t say it’s a bad thing. I actually believe they all are bound to sort everything out, because patience always gives way, you know. And it’s normal. It _should_ happen.’

‘And I wanted to forcibly speed up the process,’ Hansol mumbled.

Yooncheol sighed over his ear.

‘So you invented this, right?’

‘Right. And then I told one of the staff members… do you remember Alex?’

Yooncheol was quiet for a few seconds.

‘Vaguely...’

‘Well, me too, but I told him everything. And then he left, and then this shit happened. I bet he sold the idea to this motherfucking corporation! And I forgot about it when he left, because I just ran out of thoughts to think about it. And I only realized what this was, like, several universes in!’

‘So if he sold the idea without you even knowing, how is it your fault?’

Hansol opened his mouth – and closed it again. His eyesight was finally clear enough to look around – and he saw nothing but lumps on the ground. Maybe those people were listening to them, or maybe they left them virtually alone, it was hard to tell.

‘But it was my idea,’ he said quietly. ‘And I spilled the beans, and gave out a lot of other people’s secrets.’

‘I mean, that was a shitty thing to do,’ Yooncheol admitted calmly. ‘But it’s not like you were letting it all out with a specific intention of this game ever becoming real. I bet you never even thought it could be possible.’

Hansol shook his head.

‘I didn’t.’

‘So you see? There are things you did wrong here. But this game can’t be your fault. Because you never meant it as a way of entertainment in the first place. You were just desperate. But conflicts are normal.’

‘I don’t like them,’ Hansol confessed.

‘No one really does,’ Yooncheol remarked, running his fingers through Hansol’s hair. ‘But it’s still normal. And what matters is how you handle them. People learn to solve conflicts, you know. Sometimes all their lives. What matters, at the end of the day, is how we’re gonna get out of this game. And looks like we’ll have to get our shit together along the way nevertheless.’

‘I want you to get _yours_ ,’ Hansol sighed.

‘What about mine?’

Hansol sighed again. He didn’t know how to bring it up. Maybe Yooncheol needed to see it and sort it our for himself?

‘You can tell me,’ Yooncheol reassured, moving slightly away from Hansol. ‘You know I can take it. If you think there’s something I’m doing wrong, you can always call me out. After all, you, of all people, wouldn’t say it to insult me, would you?’

He smiled a little. Hansol looked down. Sangwon's face flickered in and out before him.  _I wouldn’t be so sure._

‘You need to stop investing so much in me,’ he said quietly. ‘I mean, you need to care for yourself first. Isn’t that what you always say – you need to put your own oxygen mask first.’ He looked up at Yooncheol, at his closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows as he listened carefully. ‘You have been neglecting yourself. And you know, I’m needy. I’m gonna take advantage of your kindness as long as you let me. Because I really...’ he hesitated. Words didn’t want to come. ‘I mean… because you’re such a healing presence and because being with you I always feel safe. But I want you to be okay, too.’

Yooncheol raised his hand. The crease between his eyebrows had deepened, and his face changed to an overall look of _you must be shitting me._

‘Wait-wait-wait,’ he said. ‘Let’s get one thing straight here. I do what I want, alright? I do whatever feels right and doesn’t inconvenience me. You know that’s what I do, right?’

‘Right,’ Hansol smiled bitterly. ‘Except this once.’

Yooncheol inclined his head to the side.

‘If it didn’t feel right to me, I wouldn’t offer support in the first place,’ he said, with a little smile. ‘As long as I offer, you’re free to take advantage.’

Hansol sighed. Yooncheol’s hands found their way to his and squeezed softly.

‘I just need you to feel better,’ he said, suddenly hotly. ‘Because I love you, I really, really want to give you something you need, something that would make your life a little easier. Please, just let me be useful _somehow_. I really don’t have much to offer, but I give what I have.’

Hansol smiled desperately.

‘But you do!’ he almost exclaimed, having to suppress what was trying to rush its way through, from his heart to his throat. ‘Exactly because you always knew where to share and where to keep, you always had the best things to offer! But now that you don’t keep any more, you’re just making me feel guilty.’

Yooncheol pressed up his lips in a pained look.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, and Hansol’s heart fell deep down.

_No, I can’t fuck up like this._

‘Don’t be,’ he begged, entwining his fingers with Yooncheol’s. ‘It’s my fault, I’m telling you. I’m so clingy, I’m always demanding something of you. I want you to be happy, too. You just need to realize you don’t need to try so hard, because you’re doing enough. You need to _live_ , you know what I mean?’

Yooncheol squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

‘I hope you don't hate me for changing the subject,' he said quietly, tensely, ‘but I really, really want to kiss you right now. Can I?’

There was something so honest in his question — like he was debating on the appropriateness of any display of more affection, if it was welcome. Hansol's heart fluttered - and nagged just a little bit. It was bittersweet, maybe because he still didn't feel like it was the end of his journey, or maybe because being near Yooncheol again, like he used to in reality, felt so dissonant and unbelievable. Hansol let out a breath – of relief, of the ‘of course’, and of something else, that he couldn’t quite put into words. He put his hands onto Yooncheol's cheeks, and pressed his soft, closed lips into Yooncheol's, tightly and tenderly.

He knew Yooncheol wouldn't do anything he didn't want him to do. He felt his lips part, ever so slightly, in a trembly, suppressed desire to get closer - and parted his own, too, and froze, because somehow, even now, it didn't feel wrong, or sexual, or invasive. He savoured the warmth — and then pulled back, and pressed their foreheads together, not wanting to open his eyes, and feeling almost ashamed for not being able to offer more. Yooncheol's fingertips ran along his cheekbones, and softly down, to cup his face.

A voice pierced their shared silence, loud and bubbly, and demanding attention:

'Are you two done having a moment? Because I'm definitely done trying to hold this little bastard in place!'

* * *

Hansol started, and scrambled back from Yooncheol, his lips still tingling and his fingers trembling, barely registering what was going on around him — for a moment, he was just as blind as Yooncheol. Somehow, he managed to turn and look up — and he met Sehyuk's stare, sly and smiley.

‘Sorry to interrupt you like this,’ Sehyuk said, beaming at Yooncheol. ‘Hi ‘Cheolie! That was really romantic and all, but lookie here!’

And with that, he dragged forth none else but Sanggyun, whom he was holding by the collar of his dirty sweatshirt, and who was floundering desperately to get free.

From behind Sehyuk’s back, two others emerged from the narrow passage – Hojoon first, face still bloodied, limping a little, but steadier on his feet, and Jiho, who had to suck all the way in to push through without grazing the walls. His Batman mask was nowhere to be seen, and he was holding the abandoned Kevlar vest in his hand.

‘Hey Sehyuk,’ Yooncheol greeted, turning his head to the direction of the sound of their footsteps. ‘Who’s with you?’

‘Jiho and Hojoon,’ Hansol said quickly, rising. ‘Hey, Sanggyunie! Look at me?’

Sanggyun sent him a hateful look, but that was quite enough.

‘C’mon,’ Hansol called, smiling a little.

Sehyuk released Sanggyun’s collar and wiped his hand on his jeans.

‘So you got him, after all!’ Hansol exclaimed, unable to hide his relief any more.

Sehyuk smirked self-confidently. Sanggyun scoffed.

‘Yeah, they did. And made a mess out of it.'

He tried his best to straighten his sweatshirt, but that hardly seemed possible. Sehyuk counted his fingers quickly.

'That makes us all, right?’

Hansol nodded quickly.

‘Exactly right. We gotta hurry to the Big S, Sangdo and Byungjoo are waiting for us there.’

‘And Sangwonie?’ Jiho asked casually, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Hansol’s smile fell.

‘Yeah, he as well,’ he said briskly. ‘We really need to get going.’

* * *

Jiho was leading their way through the streets quickly and confidently. Those were all unfamiliar sights, but he promised it would be the short way around, and no one really had any objections. Passing people were casting their group weird glances, but it didn’t much bother anyone anymore. Jiho had pulled his Batman mask back on - he actually had it, after all, - and the very outline of the sharp ears on the top of his head made passers-by shuffle back, giving him way.

Yooncheol and Hansol were lagging behind all the way, and others just turned around from time to time to check if they were still present. No one asked any questions. They walked in a tired silence, and it was pressing onto Hansol’s eardrums. Yooncheol’s fingers were grasping his own as he didn’t say a word either – Hansol was expecting him to ask about Sangwon, but he didn’t. Hansol didn’t know if it made him even slightly relieved.

Sangdo met them at the door of the Big S – he looked like he had been waiting there all along. He hugged every one in turn, and he hurried them all to come in quickly. In the room Hansol had left them, Byungjoo was still lying on the same bed, staring in front of himself and tracing paths on the covers with his fingertip. With his back to the door, wide Sangwon was sitting at the feet of the bed, leaned forward, unmoving and dark. Hansol quickly glanced down as he turned to greet the others. He couldn’t bear meeting his eye now.

They curled up to sleep in various poses around the room. As expected, in his pocket Hansol found sleeping pills, and Sangdo brought some water from the bar. Yooncheol didn’t step away from him, but now his presence was just making Hansol uneasy, because time and time again he caught Sangwon’s glances, and he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Yooncheol put his head in Hansol’s lap as he took his pill. Hansol leaned back onto the wall and closed his eyes, feeling his warm weight press onto his thighs. His thoughts weren’t with Yooncheol now. _It’s all my fault, -_ he thought absently. _Nothing will change my mind. It’s only my fault we got dragged into this in the first place. And it's my fault - everything that Sangwon's feeling now is entirely inflicted by me._

He dared open his eyes just a crack – to catch half of the room glitch, like an old scratched disk – and then clear again, empty. Hojoon, Byungjoo, Sangwon and Sangdo were gone. Hansol only had time to open his mouth and draw a sharp intake of breath – and then multicoloured pixels filled his view, and then he stopped feeling anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I was having A LOT of trouble writing this chapter, because there were all those unexpected shifts with what was going on in the group, and because I was really tired all the time and couldn't find energy for anything at all, and it was so emotionally heavy for me, because it's a bit of a breaking point (foreshadowing intended) for the entire story. But I'm feeling better now, - partly because now we have some activity from Xeno-T, - and I finally finished this chapter and polished it the way I wanted to! I hope you all still stick around waiting :) Thank you <3


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